Merry Christmas

I fear that may have reached the age at which all festive activities become obligatory circus acts predictable from beginning to the end. From this not necessarily follows that the occasion is an unpleasant one, merely that I could think of activities as pleasant with the added bonus of being cost-and frustrationless.

Have I become to critical of family traditions? Or am I just grumpy for the lack of snow? Or am I longing for a childhood when christmas was something magical? I'll deny any charges whenever they are launched at me and take this opportunity to wish everyone a pleasant Yule-Tide.

Saint-Nicolas

Off late it seems that evert religious holidya anywhere in the world has to be turned into an opportunity to lavish children in sweets and gifts. I find this disgusting and remember from my childhood the one magial evening, the one holiday for children only, the anticipation, the putting out shoes, the waking up early, ...

I sincerely feel that I appreciated it more than children nowadays do, and certainly that I wouldn't not-mind waking up early if there was a pile of presents waiting for me every other month.

But this was actually not the whole point of my narrative. I just wanted to say thank you to the kind soul who left candy on my desk at work, thus I presume showing his/her appreciation of the work I do.

The Brownie Test

The perfect excuse to actually make some. Gather in my living room sweet teeth!

You Are a Caramel Brownie

You are a very sweet person. Even when you get yourself in to binds, people know that your heart is in the right place. You're the type of guy or gal that people never forget. There is something "sticky" about you - you stick in people's brain's. You are act naturally. You let the world see who you are, flaws and all. You're a little chaotic and even messy, but you're okay with that. You can be a bit hyper and unfocused at times. You don't stay organized - but that's part of your charm!

What Kind of Brownie Are You?

Protect!

I had my doubts about the title of this post, the picture I've selected is hardly politically correct, and I'm not sure that I of all people should be the one having to promote safe sex but it is my firmest belief that one can't be reminded too often.

November Newsflash

The second but last month of 2009 is drawing to a close and I feel that I most write something, even if it is but to announce some already well-known facts.

- I made it to 50K words in National Novel Writing Month, as you may also notice from the widgets on the left (yes, that left).
- I have achieved in 2009 whatever goals set for 2008 were left and hope that 2010 will prove a year of equal opportunities and self-love.
- I am on a job-hunt again, much the same as I was in this period last year, with the exception that I can now afford the luxury to apply only for those jobs that I want to do, while I'm doing one I'm not so fond of doing.
- I have bought all but one christmas present for my housemates. Including the one for me.

Quote #35

And who am I to argue with this?

Listening, not imitation, may be the sincerest form of flattery.

Dr. Joyce Brothers

All is not well...

I sigh.

So deeply I sigh.

I fear I may have overestimated my capacity of literary invention. I bit off a lot more than I could chew when I decided to partake in this year's NaNoWriMo. And it isn't merely lack of story and vocabulary that keeps me from writing; there's just too much too do in my private life.

So much that I sometimes wonder where will this land me, but in some unfrequent private moment of reflection I look back on the tumultous events and realise nothing has changed, nothing much has changed.

A year back, I was a grumpy miserable unkept gloomy shadow of human existence *, and now I feel as if I could hardly be happier (well, most of the time I do) but still I'm worrying and worrying and worrying and right now I honestly don't know why. If there is a why.

I conclude saying; all is not well, but most things are.

* this might be slight exagerated

Happy Birthday -bis

Not for the world would I have dared stealing a present and honour of my beloved Shirahime, but since the another loved one has decide not te be near when he turns 25, a little 'Congrats!'-sout-out is in order. Hence:

Happy Birthday Martinito!

NaNoWriMo

I'm competing. What else did you expect?! I owe myself this indulgence. Check for updates here.

So how about you?

In Memoriam

So far I have been spared any demises among my closest family members, but I read today that few of my friends have been this lucky (or at least, so it would seem). If I were a religious woman I would pray but I suppose my support,if that would be called for, is all I have to offer now.

Be strong for the sake of those who are weak and live on with the memory of a loved one firmly fixed in your heart.

Shhhhhhht

You Are The Silence of the Lambs

You think the scariest thing in the world is the human mind. What serial killers are capable of frightens you to the core. You aren't big on gore or action when it comes to horror movies. You rather delve deeper than that... and get completely disturbed. In fact, you can hardly ever find a horror movie that compares to the nastiness of a true crime story. You couldn't think up the brutal crimes that occur in real life. In your opinion, no monster can be as scary as a human. You don't have to look far to find someone that totally terrifies you.

What Scary Movie Are You?

Residence Wishlist

I never fail to be inspire by my fellow bloggers; so after reading this, I thought it was time to make up my own wishlist.

In case of moving from my present 'home' I will look for the following.


- low maintainance bathroom, fully tiled
- 4 bedrooms
- a garden, however tiny
- a spacious living room
- closeness to public transport
- fully equiped kitchen
- an attractive attic

A Very Happy Birthday

You never to fail check my on-line updates, you never deny me your support when I'm having a though time, the very fact that you are alive in this world and ready to comfort when that would be neccesary comforts me more then you may imagine and that you never ever have trouble understanding my every worry, fear, unrest or anxiety is something none can demand from even a closest friend and yet you do it. I should tell you much more often how much you mean to me.

Th force is with me

I have been reassured. Or rather I have come to conclude that it is perfectly safe to be no longer suspicious of who my stalker might be. And even more that no harm shall come to me while I rest an sorrowless night in my own tiny bed.

In the glottering picture that adorns this textyou will find the exact same message that I found under my pillow last night.

Unless the message I had to read in it was: 'I shall crush you with my laserblade as wer you a mere wookie hatchling.'

Wondering...

... is it the high heels?
... is it the total redness of my attire?
... is it the high fashion boots?
... is it the joy of life that I radiate?
... is it my intelligent converstation?
... is it nothing new, except that now I notice?


Male attention is not something I'm used to. Not in this quantity or off this quality.

Rant VI (or thereabouts)

I don't enjoy my art class as I used to. Which pains me greatly since giving up is an option I deleted from my spellbook.

Why is it that I can acknowledge the fact not being a good artist and yet take classes and courses expecting to learn, yet feeling all the more frustration that this selfimposed hours of eductaion steal from me the time I would like to spend writing, something that I'm actually good at.

Dare I venture that I had better taken a creative writing course? Something I would never do for fear my one talent would be smothered with artificiality or worse prove too weak for criticism to nourish it and be broken.

Bah.

Me? Organised?

True for the essential part but not entirely.

You Are Archive

You are competent, organized, and careful. You know how to stay on task and focus on the most important thing. You like to have everything in its place. Messes and chaos completely stress you out. You have a system for almost everything in your life, and you don't like to deviate from it. Calendars, routines, and having things in a certain order keeps you calm. You don't like to shake things up too much.

What Email Function Are You?

Blogthings: Our Quizzes Weren't Written By Bored 12 Year Olds

... and a new writing utensil.

Since I got a lot more for my birthday than I wanted or dreamed of getting, I'm inclined to aim high. Beside it's almost true.

I dare you

Dear whoever,

Since you are so very fond of hiding un der my pillow all sorts of objects ranging from live plants to fabric softener, why not hide yourself in my bed? Some comfort I can do with, mystery imposed on me I'd rather have not.

Love

Extraordinarities

I had intended an update on how life back at the art academy is going, then later I intended one on some fortunate unexpected encounters, even later I wanted to share my workrelated frustration and then how I have had a serious open and construvtive converstaion with my superiors ( I wish to have it known explicitly that I mean here superior in company rank, in all other respects I will not be made to feel inferior).

But inspiration isn't bubbling and if it would be, I would be writing my private live in gold ink on black paper with red hot words, breathing lust, brutal passion, physical angry temptious sensuality and...

ehm not a shred of reality.

Eating Habbits of the City Pigeon

I know really not much about this but...

during my lunch break I saw one pecking at waste chewing gum. This can be neither normal nor healthy.

Jogging

Is it me or is everyone trying really really hard to keep/get in shape while the somewhat unfamiliar warmish weather lasts? I did notice a fair amount of runners and walkers making laps along the riverside nearby my homestead.

Quote #34

Men are like roses. Watch out for all the pricks.

Only too true. Curtesy of ...

Pirate Sign Language

Please memorise by tomorrow.

What I wanted...

• a Kindle
• a Mont Blanc pen (possibly the gift I'd have to buy myself)
• a better, bigger bed
• you, all wrapped up in a red ribbon
• golden stilleto's
• a D&D battle grid
• a classic type writer
• a kitchen apron
• classic fancy stationary
• a giant cake
• new dice
• lots and lots of hugs

Buccaneer Chickens

May I remind everyone to print his/her pirate glossary in time for the grogfest coming september 19th?! This may serve you well. This too.

And of course you must visit around here, eventually.

The beginning of a new schoolyear

Safe destruction of the earth, my accidental hit by traffic, or having to work overtime; I'll have my very first lesson of the year this evening and I can't tell how I look forward to it. It isn't near as exciting as it was last year when I started my artistic exploration but ...

I guess we'll see and in the meanwhile; let's have fun.

A thousand tunes and colours

As I walked to work this morning I felt like a thousand sond humming, but now that I have a tool for textprocessing at my disposal not a single line of lyric pops up. My just reward I suppose for being ever so preoccupied.

In fact this wasn't going to be about music but about painting, I've finally enrolled in a 10-hours a week course and I'm thrilled. Positively thrilled AND excited.

I hope that as always this blog will not slow down under my new activities but instead that the development of one sort of creativity may spur my creative writing onwards to equal or higher heights.

note to self: You are indeed in need of more practice in writing also; this English of yours is abominable.

I scream for Ice Cream

I looked very much forward to that meeting/date and still ... the only feeling is that of despair. I suppose this will teach me not to get my hopes up.

How to be happy.

For a future reference: Read the Fucking Manual!

And also; bake! Pie- if ingrdients galore. Cake- when ingredients are scarce. Bread- when your knuckles are in need of punching something very hard and repeatedly.

Warning or...?

The stalker-saga continues, this time however no sweets under my pillow but a rather morbid gift; a carnivorous plant. Is this some touching gesture wantig to keep my sleep free from insectoid buzzing and my blood safe from mosquitoes or a warning?

Not a 100% rambling free

I must not let weeks and weeks pass, before every up-date, I am aware of that much. And since there is no more andless wailing on the subject of my unhapiness or my love-life, and the internet is a far too dangerous and too public a place for openly announcing my disgust as to some work-related issues I must find other things to say.

Such as: GNARFL

Or perhaps LNORFINK but this may not make much sense. Or not to me at any rate.

I shal ponder upon some social/economical/political issues and get back to you. I have declared this plcae a rambling-free zone and it had best stay this way.

The giver of gifts

I have commented before on the doings of a certain person whose identity I shun to make public since I cannot be too carefull when it comes to the alias of superheroes. But it is going to far. End-of-the-world far. Among presents unaccounted for this year I have found; four-leaf clover seeds, fake giant orange gemstone, mints, sticky notes, sweets, plastic jewelry, books,...

And not that I mind presents or surprises but who the hell is this generous sponsor? And why me?

And which such wonderings I pass my days.

The Rose Test

Ah, so true.

You Believe that Love is Mysterious

When you think of love, you think of what could be possible in the future. In love, you see things as they are. You accept and love your partner's faults. If you are in love, you want the whole world to know it. You don't hold back with letting people know. You are somewhat patient in love. You can wait for the right person, but once you have found the right one, you're very impatient.

The Rose Test

The Weekend

Somewhat boisterous, I'd wager to announce Saturday and Sunday past as 'the weekend' as if none other could have had one like me, or even worse to think that I will never live trough another Friday evening 'till monday morning filled up with pure joy.

It does not befall me very often to start an evening at a party in the kitchen sipping to end up practically sober and shaking every inch of my body on the dancefloor.* Nor do I spend many of my Saturdays shopping tea, reading newspapers, singing Flemish chanson out of key** and shaking off rather drunk Dutchmen who insist on kissing me.

* For the sake of those who've heard the story a billion times by now I shall remain silent on the subject of what happened between the first glass of wine and half past 2 a.m. but you may fantasise about it if you promise to include these ingrediënts; semi-hot guy, three glasses of rather sweet white wine, a very hot black'n'pink outfit and lots of converstion.

** These are all lies, I wouled spend all my saturdays like this if I had even te remotest chance.

1/4 Century

A month from now, I'll celebrate my 25th birthday. I'm quite sure it will be a great dinner/ dress-up party. I'm also pretty sure nobody is going to steal the attention which I think I deserve, away from me. I'm convinced I'll have a good time because of all the things I have to be greatful for this year, but deep deep down I still feel as if I should have accomplished more by now. I guess I'll always feel a bit like a loser.

However, if it's but 'a bit' I can certainly learn to deal with it. This post wasn't meant as a self-complaint but as an invitation.

Please show up in your most Piraty Outfit as I have decided to make my birthday party a warm-up round for International Talk Like a Pirate's Day.

I hope to be able to greet you* there and then. Route details, menu, and requested arrival time may follow in your* inbox.

P.S. Would .38, if invited be so kind as to drop me a note with a description of his/her attire. I would like the chance to tell him/her in person how much I appreciate the effort of writing me a love note.

* this does , I fear, not include every reader

Sweet?

I love candy.

This is hardly a shocking confession. In so far that something thus pubicly known may even count as a confession. After the discovery of several generous amounts of breathfresheing mints, I found yesterday under my pillow an obscene amount of sticky fruit gums and sour bears.

I truly love and adore these candies. And I love even more being surprised, which makes it very hard for me to be angry with the generous giver.

However if (s)he is reading this: your killing my current waist and I have some very special clothing to fit into come september. Please surprise me with vegetable treats and low-fat dipping sauce in the future.

Do's and Don'ts

Some good advice for al my readers or in fact all readers.

The knitting season

Two weeks of summer holiday left; which usually triggers in me a deep deep deep longing for autumn, a lust closely combined with the craving for comfort and coziness. On the list of things that I look forward to in autumn; such as my birthday, hot chocolate, pumpkin soup, long evenings cuddled up in the sofa with a book, ... one feature most prominently; not because it is by far the most fun to do, but because it combines fun with the appearance of doing something actually usefull: KNITTING!

I have not made so very many people happy with my craftings, not so many as I would like but I have yet to learn ceasing the quest for cheap wool and easy-enough patterns.

...<3 mints

I like mints. In fact I love them. But does that really mean people can hide them under my pillow, unpunished?

I don't think so.

.38

WARNING! This is a vague vague vague rant/rambling about a personal emotional matter.


Recently, let's say sunday evening last, I received one of many anonymous letters that flock to my inbox off late. It was special though, in that respect that it was no invitation for poetic contribution to someone's study-hours entertainment. It was a love letter and I am thus puzzled about the person's identity that I am calling on you to help.

The letter reads as follows:

"Hey Sweetie,


I just wanted to say: you're one of a kind. You're beautiful, you're cute, you're wonderful and I adore you.


.38"*

Date sent: 09/08/09 22h36
E-mail: personality.38@gmail.com

I have not received answers to my multiple inquisitive letters. Any information that leads to the disclosing of aforementioned person's identity may be rewarded with coconut-brownie.

* Translated from the original Dutch:

"Hey lieve meid,

Ik wil je gewoon maar even zeggen; je bent er een uit duizend. Je bent mooi, schattig, in 1 woord geweldig en ik hou van je.


.38"

Quiz Team Naming

Aparently one must show above all ingenuity and a sense of humor when selecting a name for an occasions only- quiz team. For no reason that was communicated to the team members, supreme team leader Yot decided that we will be participating in a neighbourhood quiz as 'Bart Kaëll Fanclub" For those unaware of the phenomenon Bart Kaëll, I have included a youtube-clip below.

And fear leads to...

This about sums up my attitude towards knowledge. And broadswords.

Typewriter

The near mirror-image of my latest write-related acquisition: Paul Desmond Newman. A Type-writer as you may have guessed.

Lustfull

Your Lust Quotient: 45%

You are definitely a lustful person, but you do a good job of hiding it. Your friends would be surprised to know that your secretly very wild!

How Much Lust Do You Have?

2008 Resolutions

For a while, little though that while may be I've completed my list of 2008 New Year's Resolutions. So it's about time I get started on those for 2009. Since I've made none are there any suggestions?

Bussiness Idea

Many many months ago, it may even be years, we* had the brilliant brilliant bussiness idea of getting paid to 'fake' somebody's social networking. Apparently it's not such a bad idea: click here.


* a group of my friends who by their nicknames are known as; Yahweh, Pegasus, Rabbitine, Dr. Evil, 01, Swashbuckler, Gentle Man

GF- Final Day

And I was there! But alas not a single photo to prove it because the cable for my digital camera only arrived today :-(

Ah.

Sigh.

What can I say? I loved it. Among many many many things I could not have imagined a year ago, yesterday was a day I can hardly believe having happened even still. (< This cannot be a correct English sentence, please correct me. I need your attention.)

I took a half-day of sick leave to spend an afternoon drinking my new favourite beer at the Sint-Veerle Square watching/listening to a coverband-wannabe-cabaret artists of such low level the horror I felt might have made me sick hadn't I been pretending to be sick in the first place.

And don't you think I was a good girl and went home straight afterwards. I had a lovely supper at a Turkisch restaurant, helped a friend of a friend finish his drinking coupons at Bataclan III, went to Baudelo park and swung my hips for a good half hour.

Had I not realised I forgot my keys IN the house when I was nearly at the house, the above might have made for a pretty nice day in the life of M.

101

Since I missed a little celebratory up-date to mark the 100th post. How about some puppies?

The Strangest Thing

I'm learning how to be 'a man'.

This includes:
- smoking
- drinking beer
- burping
- farting at inappropriate moments
- commenting on women
- talking about cars


I have been told that I'm pretty cute for a guy. I guess that's a compliment to cherish for life.

National Holiday

179 years ago Belgium became an independent country. Had I had the opportunity I might have burst out into song, by preference our natinal anthem.




Or as Yves Leterme would have it;

On top

I'm not at the top yet. Not by far. But ever since climbing to the top of the St- Bavo Cathedral, I feel like I might get there, some day.

The Blinding Light

My eyes hurt.

I never knew this could bother me so much. but it is bothersome, especially since I have yet another two hours to go sitting in front and working behind *what I suspect to be the cause of the problem.

The computer. Or else I'm not sleeping enough.

*It may be clear that I'm not moving seats for this to be an entirely accurate sentence.

Does not compute

Of all the things I'd thought I'd never say, the following might not even have been on the list for reasons of inconceivability, but...

"I wish there were more guys just like you"


Editors note: This was once again purposely and sufficiently vague so as to keep most people wondering. I can't say more, because it does simply not compute.

Aloha!

Your Hawaiian Name Is: Kiana Iolana

Mahalo!

What's" Your Hawaiian Name?

That's good to know I suppose.

Ominous Cake

Sometimes you do things, take action without there being a direct need or cause. And then a few moments later it seems your actions were exactly what needed to be done. (Vague vague vague)

For example; although I felt quite well when I came home yesterday, I baked. For no apparent reason. But the reason presented itself a few hours later and though I have learned to cope with this specific type of bad news*, I was still very happy to have nutritional comfort too.


Left-Over Muesli Cake

- one reasonably sized jar of your favourite jam
- 2 or 3 jars of selfrising flour
- 4 small eggs (or 3 big ones)
- 1 jars of muesli or crushed cornflakes
- a spoonful of rosewater


Mix all ingrediënts. Poor in buttered and floured oven-proof vessel. Heat at 180°C for about 35 minutes.


Enjoy with chocolate sauce.


* If you don't know what this means, then you don't need to know.

Bravery

I saved an innocent life today. I can't help but feeling good about myself.

Still <3'ing

Off late I seem to make a lot of Twitter-statements starting with '<3'. As i can't possibly keep this up without boring my entourage out of their wits I've created a little list below so you can keep track of the things I've enjoyed/loved in the past few weeks, without having to wait for yet another twitter update.

• you
• shopping
• foot scrubs
• facial scrubs
• broccoli soup
• plum cloured high heelel peep-toe'd shoes
• underskirt
• restful nights
• hotpants
• sunshine
• reading
• my D&D 4th edition core rulebooks
• being invited for lunch
• Ugly betty
• feeling beautiful
• whistling
• Lapsang Souchon tea

Plot plot plot

How sure are you of YOUR cat?

Quote #33

I couldn't agree more.

The critical ingredient is getting off your butt and doing something. It’s as
simple as that. A lot of people have ideas, but there are few who decide to do
something about them now. Not tomorrow. Not next week. But today.
- Nolan Bushnell

M <3 OOTS

I have, for a very long time now, been a tremendous Order of the Stick-fan. For a short while I have felt though that the story dwindled too far or that the puns weren't as good as they used to be.

As of today however I will never again question his genius. Click whatever link you like to know the reason there-off.

I <3 you

I heart you. Oh yes I do.

I heart you, you , you, you, you, you, you, you, you, you, you*, you, and you. All of you. And don't ask why I say '<3'.

The word 'like' does not do you justice. The word 'love' is overused and hence meaningless. And you do mean a lot to me.


*I do not long for you, I do not lust for you, I don't go mad with desire for you, I don't need or want you but you have a place in my heart.

Out of FaceBook

I've announced via the proper channels that I will neither be checking nor updating my FaceBook for the next two days. The reason is I lost a bet. The precise circomstances of this bet, are best kept secret.

But it may be said; I'm not amused. Damn you horny horny dogs!

Mona @ Werchter...

• ...<3> Nick Cave
• ...<3> The Bad Seeds
• ... converts Shirahime to Nick Cave-fandom
• ... sweats
• ... realises she hasn't partied much in her life so far
• ... realises also she doesn't have to be (even slightly) drunk to do so
• ... intends to put this right at the earliest occasion(s)

Hot Time, ...

..., Summer in the City

The back of my neck isn't dirty and gritty though. It's just hot hot hot hot hot! And I won't get any cooling today, not before the day cools itself and I am in the company (hopefully) of friends and friendly strangers, seeking warmth again from a wooden fire or fresh tea brewn in the open air.

But why am I complaining?

I'm not just envious of those people wo can move their 'office' to their terrace. I don't like heath much. In fact I don't like it at all. The only good thing about heath is the necessity and hence perfect excuse for eating ice cream.

A Taste of...

You Are Bitter

You aren't bitter at the world, even though you have a strong personality. Instead, you are sophisticated and cultured. You appreciate acquired tastes. You are very powerful. You have the ability to change a room's energy. While some may find you disagreeable, your points of view are intelligent and interesting.

What Taste Are You?

Türkiye

The visit-Maarten-trip to Side, Antalya, Turkey came to an end last sunday. Here's what I'll try to remember for future trips:

• Do not wait until the last day to spend your money.
• I can still dive pretty well, however it is a good idea to wear a proper bikini as to avoid further wardrobe malfunctioning.
• Turkisch men are idiots!
• I don't live well in heath
• I get really grumpy when I go to long without food
• Turkisch bread is the best!
• Do not annoy your travel companions with stories of your love life when there isn't much love in it and/or you are unwilling to spill details.
• Check for better transit flights.
• Smile more at custom officers.
• Starbucks at the airport is your only option for relatively cheap and drinkable tea.

Ice Cream

Generally I don't put up with people that I haven't known for long, giving me advice on any subject let alone one I like to complain and whine about.*

Neither do I like to be treated on food or drinks let alone by a member of the opposite gender. **


But scraping my tongue again and again against two scoops of delicious sorbet on a crispy cone, listening to age-old advice that I might figured out for myself by now, I really had a great time, so...

Thank You!

* i.e. that non-existing love life of mine
** that in my opinion might have been a different species all together

Carmen

*

Apart from the setting, which was I grant you gradn. There was not so very much to enjoy about the Opera I went to. The story was very familiar, the singing, the dancing, the music; very nice and all but to be honest, not what you'd expect from a state opera assembly.

All I wanted to remark is that you never know when you can learn a lesson. Hearing it sung once too many I think the following line, may stick for a while:

Si tu ne m'aime pas je t'aime. Et si je t'aime prends garde à toi!

* May or may not be replaced by a self-made picture of the event.

Descending trend.

I could almost not imagine a better start of a day and in the mood of optimism that hexes me of late I even thought it would be a good day. But of course it wasn't.

The carefully planned day at the office turned into a complete disaster.

The dinner I cooked was rubbish, I don't care everybody said they liked it, of course they would say that; it's free food. Everybody likes free food.

The laundry I did came out purple or shrunk or torn. In other words: goodbye bikini! And where am I going to find anything my size with little over 24h to before I leave, time that has to include two restfull nights and full day at work?

I ate way too much brownie and now I might possibly be sick tomorrow.

I forgot to check whether or not I need a seperate passport to fly to Turkey, for all I know I might not even get on the plane and then my dearest Shirahime will hate me forever.

I didn't have the courage to deny help in doing the dishes, goodbye washing-up therapy.

Strange Things

In the first 12 hours of today, I:

• accidently swallowed half a tube of toothpaste


• saw a boy in bathrobes studying an exam under the streetlights


• nearly crashed into a boat


• made a confession


• fell in and out of love


• had alcohol with my breakfast


• sent two people on errands


• killed a mosquito with my bare hands


• saw a cricket on the office door


• found half a box of chewing gums left on my desk as a present

Very few of these items are I think related. And none of the above counts as the weirdest event of the current week, because last night I was introduced to the to be housemate of a friend of two of my housemates who claims to have spent the first four years of high school in my class. It took the consumption of an amount of alcohol equivalent to a half a bottle of wine before it dawned on me, who he was exactly.

CCP*

By popular request;

Cauliflower Curry Perfect

• 2 large cauliflowers
• half a cup of curcumma powder
• about 1/2l of water
• 4 cloves of chopped garlic
• 1 large onion
• 1/4kg of chopped tofu
• 1 large tablespoon of your favourite curry mix
• 250ml of soy cream
• 1 large tablespoon of powdered coconut milk
• dash of salt
• dash of strong/hot paprika powder

Heat some oil in a large pot. Stirfry the garlic, the coarsely chopped onions and the cauliflower. When the onions start to glaze, add tofu, water and seasoning.

Mix in soy cream and coconut powder just before serving. Goes well with bread or plain cooked rice.

Side note: if soy cream and powdered coconut sounds too fancy, too healthy, too vegan for you, or you just can't get your hands at them in your local supermarket. Regular cream, coconut milk, yoghurt and fattened milk will work, but the combo soy and coco powder has won every flavour test it has been submitted to so...

* Alas not, the Chinese Communist Party

Vote!

In the course of three or four days, every adult in Europe has a chance to chose a future*. Being Belgian I don't have the right to vote but the duty to vote and also for a regional parliament. A duty that I love.

My political views are not always so clear, least of all to myself but I hoped that my vote for a strong and unified left in the political spectrum and a solidary unified Europe would be one of many. Alas.

In the prelimenary results I find little reason for joy safe that the extremest right party loses badly. Every other party in that part of the spectrum gains at the cost of aforementioned but gains nonetheless.

* I don't care if this is an oversimplified rendition of what I suppose elections for the EU Parliament are.

The Jungle Test

You Are Dramatic

You are colorful and charismatic. You get and hold people's attention. Right now, you are seeking peace and tranquility in your life. You are drawn to people who are passionate and deep. You feel like there are many major things in your life that need to be changed. You make a lot of course corrections in your life. Your first reaction is usually not your final verdict.

The Jungle Test

And it's pretty much all true.

Saying without saying

It leaves little to guess at, when or if, I after nearly a week of silence pour three consecutive posts into the digital connection ocean. Staged anger will not hide the fact that his/her opinion matters to me. Where this leaves me, I shall ponder upon in silence.

And no, I honestly don't care this is the return of very very very vague posts. You can always just ask what I mean, I only ever lie to protect myself from heartbreak.

Today's Discovery

... or what I should have known two months ago already.


Fair enough, I'll need two more months of hard work and learning before I'm even anywhere near efficient enough to start putting one or two points into practice, I might even be working for too small a company to ever get away with it, the idea seems appealing nonetheless.

The Perfect Lover II

Or the other way around of course.*


*Click here.

Rant VII

WARNING!: This is one of many before and many to follow posts that is but an inflamed answer to a remark made in the real world. I might want to learn to communicate, but in the meantime either you put up with this or you stop reading.

Silence.

You call this silence?! Not even a full postless week and already you accuse me of falling behind. Not so active you say, hell you told me to quit the whining in the first place. Update your own little vanity project, you you you [...]!

The perfect lover

So true.

Dirty

I feel dirty.

The horror of what is done to me can hardly be expressed. Words might do if there were enough words in my - if I may say so, quite extensive- vocabulary. And I suppose you will all think I exagerate but it is no fun to be adressed by someone you hold in the lowest (or highest if that's worse) contempt with a term of endearment.

I do not wish to be called 'Morhanneke' , not by I man whose name I hope will be cursed, who may rot in hell for all I care and slow and whose painful demise cannot come too soon.

Can everyone lend me a bar of soap? I can't promise to give it back though I might need it in it's entirety.

Quote # 32?

Safe castration, there is nothing worse for the heterosexual male than to be
held in contempt by the woman he loves.

I would like to sign this a name, but I can't remember whom it is by. It is worthy of Doroty Parker, it may just as well be a sentence that sneaked into my memory through my (day)dreams.

Rant VI

I don't like compliments, mostly because I refuse to believe they're sincere.

Dont tell me I look good, I'll never be drunk enough to believe it. Don't tell me you think I'm cool or nice or sweet, I may or may not secretly like it but I'll hate* you for it.

So thoughtfull of you to think a compliment will cheer me, but it won't. And goddamn your expectations it's my bloody right to be grumpy about it.

One final note: don't ask me whether I lost weight. 'The prize' for whoever asks me as the 100th person will not be nice.

*'resent' at the very least

Good Intentions

No more emotional melancholic mystery!

Or at least thats what I 'll try.

Last night I heard once too many that it is maybe not such a good idea to publish prety much every detail of my struggles in search for love, comfort and happiness. I may have to resort to witty remarks on world events, private affairs and utterly unimportant remarks about my day at work. For the few, I think those very few who should miss my endless wailing, they can always invite me for a drink and then some more drinks.

Going with the flow...

Not a day goes by that I don't ask other people or at the very least wonder about how to handle my curent situation. Often the current situation needs only some advice on what to wear or what to cook, now something more serious has come up and it is not at all clear to me what the obvious bad choice is between:

a) Go with the flow, just let it all happen and see where I end, realising that there's an 85% chance if will be a short happy period of bliss followed by a possibly long period of misery and heartbreak.

b) Fight for the one I am now certain that I like/love, realising there's an 85% chance of it ending in misery and heartbreak with no period of bliss whatsoever?

You tell me I guess. 

Quote #31

Life is what happens while you're busy making other plans.

John Lennon

And it has proven quite true today.

[insert apropriate curse]

Empathy

By no means I wish to seem ungrateful. You are all my friends and it is the privilege of friends to say what you mean even if it is not what I want to hear.

By doing what you are doing I sincerely believe you give me the advice that you think I need. And if it takes YOU to push me over the edge, to act against myself, my charachter and my instinct so that I may be happy, or at the very least happier, I'm glad you are doing it.

But in this entire vague exposition there is one further remark I wany to make; the one person seeing this -as I believe- from my perspective and advising me as I would myself, is the one person you all deny knowledge of even the notion 'empathy'. Of the latter these I am no longer convinced.

Steak, Guinness and Well-meant Advice

As often, yet not too often happens, I found myself in an Irish pub off late, in the company of two dear friends. Two tattooed dear friends I may say. A long long long bond (that of profound afficionado's of red and other meats) brought us together for the consumption of Guinness and Steak- and later also hot molten chocolate cake with whipped cream, but this is not the point.

Our main and pretty much only subject for the evening was sex. And whether or not I am in need of any. None in the company present could and hence dared deny it, however I have one objection as to what the focus of their these is. 

I have never ever wanted intercourse (is there any less appropriate term for what can and should be beautiful and passionate) with someone I didn't loved from the depths of my heart and the bottom of my soul. Having for once in eight years the opportunity to sleep with someone doesn't in my not so humble opinion, mean that I MUST sleep with the person* concerned.

Therefore I shall presume my bussiness with aforementioned human being as I always have, and between us there shall be no more talk of sex, casual or otherwise.

*Purposely vague

The Friend Zone

Should I be wont to believe everything people try to convince me off, I'd have a very very confused world image. Thus my scepsis at the concept of the much dreaded Friend Zone should not surprise any of you.

Apparently 'the Friend Zone' is the one place you don't want to be in. I do not concurr. Never in my vast and seemingly endless career of cultivated heartbreak-induced Weltschmerzen have I ever got stuck in the Friend Zone- untill now that is. In two rare cases the man I love(d) has become a friend of some sort once I got past months and months of agony but being 'just a friend' to the one I secretly and not so secretly desire is new.

Very new. And I really don't see what is so bad about it. I quite like it here. There isn't a lot of steamy hot sex around but then again, being a miserable, complaining, selfpitying wretch doesn't get you any either ;-).

Unhospitable

The sole reason for my sadness in the previous post, came to a temporarily end last night. But does the brief brief brief moment of physical enjoyment* warrant the negligence of one that I considered a guest?


I am not sorry for having been invited, and he whom I considered a guest was left in the pleasant company of several housemates and their respective other halfs but still... my timing could have been better.

*You know me well enough by now, not to misunderstand; it was physical AND enjoyable but it was no Kama Sutra re-enactment.

No effect

You may or may not have read a post below, explaining what to do when I feel miserable and you are in no mood to listen to my endless wailing of what a bad state I'm in. I know how baking makes me feel and nowadays I anticipate the wailing by asking people to tell me to bake.

So I did. And I still feel sad.*

So what am I going to do now?

* Even though everyone that had a taste seemed to like it.

One question

I know barely were to start writing. And I fear or rather I am certain that for the bulk of my readers it will be utterly incomprehensible.

I feel very very well right now. But at the same time I feel sad. I'm in love. And still I'm not heartbroken to learn he doesn't love me back. I feel like crying but I can't help, really can't help smiling. I slept little, ate nothing, had one cup of tea since yesterday evening but I'm so full of energy I feel like terribly long walks and shouting out loud and taking a shower just to be able to sing.

Could it be that in spite of an unhappy discovery I'm secretly happy?


I wouldn't know, I'm too confused.

Cardboard Love

It does not occur so very very often, so when it does, I like to blog about it. While waiting for another to pass before I need to get my train I came accross this site (click).

It's rather mushy but for now, I'm too happy to be bothered by it

May 1

A little late but well meant nonetheless.

Perspective

Isn't it wonderful and strange how sometimes people you barely (here meaning have only just met you) know make you look at the world as if it is an opportunity -not a mess?!

I'm very glad to have met another somebody- whom I would like to refer to as 'friend'- who reminds me to see things into perspective. And for those who haven't seen things in perspective: below is a tutorial.

Get your vitamins

It's almost sort of true.

You Are Vitamin D

You're a naturally strong person. You've always had a lot of endurance. You can survive what would make most people crumble. You have both mental and physical strength. You don't do a lot to stay healthy - you just live a pretty natural lifestyle. You stay away from processed junk, sleep like a baby, and get plenty of sunshine!

What Vitamin Are You?

One week worth of LM 33 (III)

This week in our house, in the middle of our street:

- the return of M's melancholic mood
- the return of therapeutic baking
- the plotting of Satan's* early demise
- the arrival of M's VISA
- M finally decides on which course to take at the academy of fine arts next year
- M puts her favourite writing utensil to use
- the plotting of feline D's castration
- two d&d sessions run by Allie*

Please check back next week for more news.



* no real names are given

Future Me

Occasionaly I get letters from the past; good advice from a younger me. Or not such good advice but complaints about how miserable my life is, or cryptic messages I can't figure out anymore.

Recently I got 2 of these messages and I suppose my past self would have been happy to know she'd feel a lot better in the future. But since my past self had the inclination to be a somewhat neurotic instable man-hating liability I can't be sure of it.

In case all this vagueness has got you interested here's a link.

The Cake Effect

Below you may read how I lose myself in sombre moods, for no reasons, however there is a method. A procedure. A course of actions that will never fail to make me feel better, sometimes only a very little and quite often for a very short period of time, but nonetheless it works. Below you may read yesternight's variation.

1) Sift 250 grams of auto-levitating (I mean self-rising) flour in a bowl.

2) Add 100 gr of powdered sugar, 2 eggs, 100 grams of melted or very soft butter, 1 cup of very strong coffee, 150 -200 grams of chocolate chips, 1 spoon of baking powder

3) Stir well.

4) Grease and powder oven-proof vessel with flour.

5) Pour batter into vessel.

6) Put vessel into pre-heated oven at 200°C

The result in this case was cappucino cake and M who is still a little sad but looking forward to better days.

U-Turn

Hours, little more than hours ago, little enough time to be measured even in minutes, I was happy. I  always forget how it feels when I'm not happy, so I cannot describe it but I believe I must have been since I wrote the previous post. And now...

All is black.

All of a sudden all is black. Don't ask me what happened. Nothing happened. I was having supper, which one of my house mates cooked, and it wasn't even too salty or too spicy for my taste. But suddenly it was there. BANG! Uninvited and most unwelcome: the feeling of utter despair.

The Ripple Effect

Is any of you, dear readers aware of the ripple effect?

The infinite puddle of joy an empty swimming pool can be and then to plunge in. To make the first ripple and then continue to make them, ... 

It was absolutely bloody brilliant. Brilliant! I tell you. 

Apart from having to pass under the nose and scrutinising looks of well-trained athletes, wearing little more-if in fact not less- than your underwear, displaying a technique at best mediocre for kindergarten level. But nontheless I had serious fun.

Days in the Park - part two

I've already dwelled upon the subject for too long. But I can't help feeling almost rejuvenated from the experience-now ten days ago- os sitting in the park for an entire afternoon and basically doing nothing. For as long as company was absent I was very active in the expanding of my wardrobe (i.e. I was knitting a poncho) but as soon as familiar faces appeard all energy that I did spent went into rubbing the bare shoulders of very pretty ladies, idle banter and consuming moderate amounts of alcohol. And God, does that feel good.

Just so to say that I intend to spent my next bank holiday (1st of May) in much the same way. Naturally you are all invited, advertising your presence may even result in being force fed cherry brownie.

Rosemary

True enough the picture is somewhat inadequate. It doesn't do her justice, not by far. The pen that I bought and baptised 'Rosemary'. I have bored myself, my housemates and my friends to bits by telling just how wonderful and beautiful she is and truly I cannot say it enough. She feels like a dream. Writes like a dream. Whereas any quality pen may glide over the paper seemingly effortless like ships cut through calm seas, she floats over the blank pages like clouds drift accross the sky.

Have I mentioned I love her?

Penguïn - part I

I just knew penguins were cool.

Youtube: a rediscovery

It's hard too imagine but in the last three months I have barely watched youtube, until today, when by lack of company to go explore and sunshine to make me want to spend an afternoon by the waterside, I find my self wasting my life in front of a computerscreen. Enjoy the following as I waste even more of the time I try to think of as precious on site mentioned in title.

Muscle Ache

I have managed exactly one feat of sport-like activity this week. A twenty-minute swim in the company of Miss Rabbit*. And still my shoulders, legs, back and arms ache as if I battled an army of full-plated gnomes. Where's a pair of well-trained able hands when you need them.

* for the sake of anonimity no real names are given.

What a girl needs...?

Surely this can't be right. Readily I will accept the fact that not all my needs are met, but it is not as if I am downright miserable.

None of Your Needs Are Being Met

Needs not being met: Physiological, love, safety, esteem, and self-actualization needs While it may seem surprising to you, none of your core needs are being met. You are not getting enough fuel to keep you going, and it's hindering every aspect of your life. Go back to square one. Work on getting enough rest, eating right, and even exercising. To be happy and fulfilled, your physical needs like food and sleep need to be taken care of.

How Many of Your Needs Are Being Met?

One week worth of LM 33 (II)

A more apropriate title might be 'a fortnight at LM 33' because -as the clever reader undoubtedly has noticed- I skipped the weekly update last week. Oops.

Besides the cleanliness of our house-in absence of men that make a mess out of it. Only one other hippie house related - rather domestic -thought has struck me; why am I still the one doing the cooking?

Make no mistake, I love doing it, I propose it not half of the time but nearly daily, and it's not as if I mind doing the shopping. But still, why, in a house were 80% of it's inhabitants enjoys spending time in the kitchen, where everybody is home earlier then me, and all but one prefer company for dinner I alone cook so often for so many?

Are my housemates lazy? Or am I too competitive in being the über-cook in this house and everyone else simply incapable of disappointing me?

Secretary Day

You see on the right a picture of flowers, something I thought myself quite entitled to, at the very least today. Because it's secretary day, and basically that's what I do.  Of course I didn't get any but I bought a little something for myself. You may check it out here.

I heart collegues with baking skills.

Am I not lucky?

The title of this post about sums up what I would write about but it was by far the most pleasant event of yesterday. Especially since I had to reschedule my swimming date, did not taste victory in the picking-up vegetables contest, fell for the wrong guy again, received an e-mail reminder of my dentist for a yearly check-up and had to work late very late. Bah.

But I still heart collegues with baking skills.

Today in the news.

I woke up a little late this morning. Usually I'd eat a hurried breakfast and dash off to work, today I still had a sip of tea and a quick rummage through the paper. And I learned the following:

• In Dubai a dromedary has been cloned for the first time.
• A baby has been made with sperm that is 22 years old.
• In Illinois a thirteen-year old boy robbed a bank.
• Someone wrote a book about the perversity of celebrities promoting their religion or goodwill.
• Three days after his near-heroic third victory, anything the golden boy utters- ranging from 'I had to vomit' to ' I want another green jersey' is still news.

Flirtatious

I do not suppose the adjective that makes up the entire title for what will be the only post today is one many of my friends or even relatives, let alone vague acquaintances will readily associate with me.

But even though it's new to me, it about sums up how I feel. I suppose. I don't really know if this is flirting a more innocent version of myself might call this simply being friendly. And I might mean not much, but I'm sure I mean something (oh vagueness here I come again).

However I refuse to worry about it. I feel flirtatious.

Damn you butterflies in springtime, damn you foolish heart and damn you pftuh, ftuhh, ptuh ptuh. In the meanwhile I'm going to just enjoy.

Breaking the habit.

It is mid-easter holiday, a two-year tradition dictates that I should be utterly drunk, angry at the entirety of mankind, sad, humiliated, heart-broken, drooling and above all redecorating bathrooms with vomit.

It can't be denied I had my share of alcohol this weekend but nonetheless I am almost sober now, with no intention of being sick and every intention to enjoy a few hours of sleep and whirl through my working day tomorrow.

In elaborate conference with those friends that shared most of the day and it's sunshine with me I have decided to start a new tradition; Picknick in the Park, with maybe some dinner and a movie afterwards.

editors note: a picture may or may not follow

I <3 bubbles @ breakfast

For most people 'the holiday season' means two weeks before and after New Year. For me the holiday season starts around Easter. And for obvious reasons; Easter chimes the season of warm enough mornings to have meals on the terrace, it invites for waking up early, stroll in the countryside for bits and return hungry enough for an elaborate breakfast* which my parents fix without fail at every possibly festive occasion**.

* Champaign, fresh juice, home made toast and marmelade, farm yoghurt, dark chocolate, soft-boiled eggs, croissants with caramel cream,...

** Festive occasions being; 2 out of 3 children being home for the weekend, extremely sunny weather, the discovery of a mislaid bottle of bubbles or a lucky turn during our morning walking leading directly to a bakery, and so on.

An Alternative Easter Bunny

Happy Easter everyone!

Quote #30

To fear love is to fear life, and those who fear life are already three parts
dead.
Bertrand
Russell, Marriage and Morals (1929) ch. 19British author, mathematician,
& philosopher (1872 - 1970)

Women on the verge of breaking down with laughter.

Consider 125 minutes of the following:

You may well imagine girls night was a succes. And it would have been even without a movie. The starter bubbles were perfect, the main course delicious, the brownie too dark, too crumbly, too sweet and way too good not to eat at least two bites too many. Life can be sweet.

Too Subtle

Too subtle, whereas I am usually called too vague.

Too subtle, while I think it is obvious, so very very very obvious.

Risotto con tomatoes

In view of the recent demise of a shared cooking blog, this-a-here web page will be the new medium by which I will let my recipes reach you.

This may seem a tad boastfull but since I heard no less then five times how good it was I suppose you want the recipe.

Temteisjuhn Risotto

- 0.5 kg sticky rice
- 0.5 kg chopped tomatoes
- 0.25 kg bacon
- 0.25 kg mascarpone
- smidgeon of parmezan cheese
- pinch of salt
- pinch of freshly ground pepper


Heat a dash of olive oil in a suitably big (preferably non-stick) frying pan. Add bacon and tomatoes. When the tomatoes are nearly done add rice and water. About 1 cup of water for two cups of rice. Leave to boil for a while and add water as you see fit. Meanwhile season to taste.

When the rice is done you turn of the fire and mix in the cheese and mascarpone.

Done!

RIP Clichalien

Around here and here, you may for the first time have heard mention the existence of such a thing called 'Clichalien'. The rise has thus been discussed in detail and over the fall of said subject we may be brief.

He/she/it is no more.

But then what force on earth is stronger than a woman in times of springcleaning?

Photo Blog

A picture, also available here.

And no, this is not a promise to keep my other blog a little more up to date. 

Rant V

I want answers. Answers to a lot of questions. And though the questions may seem riddles to you I won't make a misty show about what I can or can't say. It's my place on the internet goddamn you, I can say whatever I bloody like.

I want to know what the look on his face means.

I want to know if it's ok to say I'm not in love.

I want to know weither it's him I miss or the feeling of being cherished.

I want to know what I feel, not assume I'm not in love, because falling in love is such a bad idea.

I want to know if maybe falling in love is exactly what I need to do.

I want to know that I'm not happy yet, but that I will be someday.

I want to know above all that halfway my feelings for him I won't just fall right back in love with you. Yes, YOU.

New books -part ?

Every now and then a girl must have new books. Please enjoy crtitising my taste as I unsecret those I have bought this weekend.

• The Complete Novels of the Brönte Sisters
• Wives and Daughters - Elizabeth Gaskell
• Women in Love - D.H. Lawrence
• The Scarlet Letter - Nathaniel Hawthorne
• Father Brown - G.K. Chesterton
• Mrs. Dalloway - Virginia Woolf
• The Little Prince - Antoine de Saint-Exupéry
• On Chesil Beach - Ian McEwan
• A hedonist in the Cellar - Jay McInerney
  
• The Enchantress of Florence - Salman Rushdie
• The Wind-up Bird Chronicles - Haruki Murakami
• On War - Carl von Clausewitz
• The Voyage of the Beagle - Charles Darwin
• Elizabeth Costello - J.M. Coetzee
• The Orange Girl - Jostein Gaarder
• Traliedieren - Patty Scholten
  
• Parfait d'Amour - Lyndsay Bekouw
• Dumonts Kleine Specerijen Lexicon
• The Conran Cookbook - Simon Hopkinson/ Terence Conran/ Caroline Conran
• Anatomie voor de Kunstenaar
• De Volledige Inleiding tot Tekenen - Barrington Barber
• Straattaferelen Schetsen - John Marsh
• The Painted House - Graham Rust
• The Celtic Design Book - Aidan Meehan
• Colour Source Book - Rosalind Ormiston & Michael Robinson
• Penguins - Frans Lanting
  
• Survivaltechnieken - Guy Croisiaux
• World History for Dummies

Sigh

Isn't it wonderful to be in love?

I have never before been able to enjoy it this much, and I know I will make all of you very curious but you will have to be patient, as patient as I must be. I won't be able to hold her until the 16th april, however then I will introduce you all and you will, nay WILL envy me. In th meanwhile I hunger, lust and desire.

And this is enough mystery and vagueness for today. I solemly promess to be utterly clear in my next post.

The Lady at the Post Office

Competion day 6 and this is the second post about post attendants, maybe this needs a little explanation.

'Doing' the mail is the part of my job I mastered first, since a newborn snail could do it with it's eyes -on-tentacles closed there is nothing very spectacular about handling incoming and outgoing post but still I pride myself in not once so far having made a mistake, and also perhaps I am sensitive in all things concerning letters because I like so very much to write and receive them in real life.

This was however a post about the Lady at the Post office. She is less indispensable, far less part of my working day routine than the mailman of whom I spoke earlier but still, she the one, and none of her four or five collegues who remembers I never pay cash,  who comments on my dress, who offers advice on good non-busy hours to come to the post office and wishes me pleasant weekend every friday afternoon.

I wish I could vote her employee-of-the-year.

On a lazy sunday afternoon

More and more my blog is not an open letter to my friends and acquaintances but a dairy page edited for publication. What this will turn into I don't know yet. I just thought wasn't sure I would come up with another post for the sake of competition so I decided to describe my sunday so far.

I woke up around ninish, got dressed and enjoyed for the first time in ages a real breakfast; hot mint tea, toast with caramel syrup, fresh orange juice, ... you get the picture. After some quick washing we ( my parents, my younger sister and myself) went to a book fair, where I spent too much money by far. A list of the purchases may follow.

And now after a somewhat copious dinner of chicken and mushrooms in peppery cream sauce, I am plotting to start reading, but I would also like to start the knitting of a new and summerproof poncho and I'm wondering why I'm not just cuddled up in front of the television with my youngest sibling and watch the round of Flanders. So many options, so little time...

One week worth of LM33 (I)

Another part of the deal (see below, or click the link) was that we (ie Dieudonné and myself) would every friday or saterday write a review of the week in house LM 33. I will undoubtedly be less original but all the more persistent in keeping this up.



A new week brought us the arrival of the Clichalien. An extraterrestial-like design on our living-door that repeats our most typical quotes. Since aparently I repeat myself the most, half of my quotes didn't make it to the final selection and even so I'm cited twice as much as any other house mate. I'm not sure whether to be happy or not.


In other news this week: the nearly daily visits of The Count aka the youngest brother of my nearly favourite housemate. His presence in our living room is nothing new, even before monday last, I would come home to a deserted house but for a lone figure clad in stylish black and white hunched in front of a wirelessly internet-connected portable computer or I would retreat to the attic where I safekeep the prayer place and find retreat impossible for the presence of two brothers in the practice of armed combat.
This week however I bid him welcome in our humble abode no less then four times, consider the seclusiveness of the young man concerned and the limited amount of days in a week and you may well be as surprised as I am. But don't mistake my words, there are few people whom I welcome into my dwelling with more or even equal pleasure.

The Postman Always Rings Twice

You may think, dear reader that I am referring to a movie classic.

But in fact I am going to tell you about whom I like to think of as 'my mailman'. He's forty-fifty something. His greying hair is short, his dress style never changes, he greets me nearly daily in the same peppy slightly smokey voice and every time he leaves with a wink. He's not ultimately lovable but I've grown strangely fond of him. In much the same way one grows fond of goldfish or kitchenmold (doesn't this sound harsh), but he's one part of my life as a working girl I would not like to trade.

I know he's not MY mailman, seeing that I have to share him with at least every other secretary in the building-whom I will scorching with flaming rays from my eyes and crush into despair with my sheer unreachable superiority, should they wish to claim the uniformed messenger themselves- still I hope to find out in time when is 'postman-day' so that I may surprise him with a(n) (origami) flower.