The season upon us

For a very long time this month I have wonderd if this post would soon be in order. After a most wonderfully warm weekend, sunlight tempting all city people to enjoy a last concktail on the terrace of a pop-up summer bar, autumn is here. Last night I rode home, in dark warmth and I could have imangined it to be a  late Augustian night. this morning I woke up in drizzle that reminded me mostly of Novembers cloak.

Bibliobibuli

I've already self-diagnosed. Keep clear of me, my living room and any books, stationary, tea cupboards and comfortable chairs that I might have sat in to lower any risk of contamination.

Bright Sunshine

For fear that this might become one of those horrible horrible 'look-what-I've-got'-blogs, I doubted almost four second weither or not to post the picture below. But just look at it! It's super-flat, super-light, has a German keyboard and it's sunshine yellow. What's not to like?

I AM an addict

That's no lie. The count is a now 143 rounds of washi tape. And the worst part is that in my heart of hearts I haven't got nearly enough.

Happy ITLAP-Day!

A streetcar called 'growing old' ?

I should be making a big deal out of it. Turning 30. I fear it's rather underwhelming. I've kept up the pretence of adulthood for so long now. Another year isn't going to make a difference to me.

This really doesn't need a title

I'm not an addict

Maybe that's a lie.

129 not counting doubles.

Healing

A day to day account starting last week; that is when the burning by steam of my lower left arm happened, might have been more interesting. But as you can see it is healing well, it hurts but very little now and even the crazy-ass itching is almost over. This does not mean however that I will not  e very happy with moisterizsing ointment left as present on my doorstep.

Birthday Party Preparartions

I realize that the title of this blogpost can be seen as a prelude to a load of picture with lots of giant cakes and colourful decorations. And let me disapoint you straigh taway: there will be no such thing(s).

I merely wish to announce what entertainment may be expected. However I have found no correct or official translation for the game I bought today so let me be as cryptic as you are used of me by now: 'Hark! Hark well! For the sound of wolves.

a week off

I really should have planned ahead. I know. But faced with nothing to do, I'm a disaster. I had hoped to go on a short trip, or visit some friends who live out of town. I have announced going to the very North of Europe I can't even manage getting out of bed to take the train for a half-day trip to our own coastal region.

tssk tssk

A book so good...

... you don't want to read it because it means it will end. And the more you read the sooner it ends.

How often does any one come across a book like that?

The List - Updated again!

It is a tad earlier than usual but still. Here goes:

• typewriter ribbon
• nail polish
• gin
• any cocktail ingredients
• garden tools and supplies
• tea
• stamps

!!!You're all invited by the way for tea and cake the 21st of September. !!!

On the origin of Darwin

Tea : The list of July 2014

1. Sencha Munt - Mattheus B
2. Earl Grey Souchong - Mattheus B
3. Duizend heuvels - Mattheus B
4. Nachtparels - Mattheus B
5. Lapsang Souchon - Mattheus B
6. Pai Mu Tan - Mattheus B
7. Rozenthee -  Mattheus B
8. Japanse Kers - Mattheus B
9. Yoga Thee - Mattheus B
10. Japan Sencha - Mattheus B
11. Amandelthee - Mattheus B
12. Gember Fresh - Mattheus B
13. Organic Dandelion - Clipper
14. Love Me Truly - Clipper
15. Organic White - Clipper
16. Lemon & Ginger - Clipper
17. Organic Green - Clipper
18. Cleanse - Pukka
19. Refresh - Pukka
20. Love - Pukka
21. Morning Time - Pukka
22. After Dinner - Pukka
23. Night Time - Pukka
24. Ginger - Yogi
25. Lime Mint - Yogi
26. Green Balance - Yogi
27. Earl Grey - Premier's
28. Chocolate Spice - La Courtisane
29. Imperial White Tea - Four O' Clock
30. Jägertee - Goldmännchen
31. Prince Of Wales - Twinings
32. Liquorice - Kruidvat
33. Green Tea - Heath & Heather
34. Blooming Teas - Jasili
35. Pu'er Blueberry - Ahmad Tea
36. Shooting Star - Numi
37. Sencha - Javana
38. Matcha - Maruyama Nori
39. Lapsang Souchong - De Draak
40. Genmai-cha - Yamamotoyama
41. King Hsuan Oolong Tea - Taiwan Tea
42. Tsui Yu Oolong Tea - Taiwan Tea
43. Indische Chai Masala - Curiosi/thee

I dare you ?!

So I see this web comic. Or meme. Or rage comic. Whatever they are called. And Character X is dared by charachter Y to google the following:

"X's name is a ...'

Naturally I needed to try this for myself( with variable z)

Google came up with the following:
- is awesome
- is a walrus
- is a girl's name
- is a welsh name
- is an atheist

Not disappointed though the list is a tad short.

The list 2014 - UPDATE!

It is a tad earlier than usual but still. Here goes:

• typewriter ribbon
• nail polish
• gin
• garden tools and supplies
• tea
• stamps

!!!You're all invited by the way for a drink on the 20th of September. Details might follow later!!!

 

GF14

Another one of those blogspost that happen or should happen or might happen every year. Is writing obsolete in such a case? It never doesn't surprise me how quickly the cityscape changes. So far it's mostly talk and talk. But it's growing louder and louder.

Last week, I noticed the first extra bicycle parking places being cleared. Yesterday a city communication mail to announce do's and don'ts for first time visitors. Today the first out-of-town friend asking when we hit the streets and a programmation up-date. From now on every square and every park and almost every bridge or wide wide enough ally will transform into festival terrain. And as every year despite myself I too become excited.

Ghent Festival!

That is supposed to sound inspiring but it really isn't. Let's stick to the language of the locals: Gentsche Fieste!

The List 2014

It is a tad earlier than usual but still. Here goes:

• typewriter ribbon
• nail polish
• gin
• garden tools and supplies
• tea
• stamps

You're all invited by the way for a drink on the 19th of September. Details might follow later.

It's been seven months and fifteen days...

... or thereabouts. Even my references to lyrics are getting worse. But with was is commonly called summer of even summer holidays two weeks under way- despite it being neither summer or (for me) a holiday- the busy busy busy excuse is no longer applicable. Surely if I can manage an hour daily of checking and checking again for new e-mails, it shouldn't be that hard to write the occasional blogpost, should it?

It's not that I no longer want to write. But what to write about? The subjects that I was so fond of as a student or even in the early days of employment no longer hold any interest for me. Or when they do, I find them too childish or unimportant to even admit that I take an interest.

Is this what it is like: to grow up?

Writing Frenzy

Tonight's the night.

And I might gonna make it happen. It'll just take a little longer than one night. But one second past midnight is the beginning of National Novel Writing Month. As you will read on the official website : 30 days, 50,000 words! One month, one novel.

All previous attempts of mine have indeed reached the 50K mark but to call them novels would be rather .... well: wrong. This year I promise to do better.  And if life doesn't interrupt me too often, I will even promise to keep you up to date.

 

Stil looking

Birthday List

The date has been set six months back. 22nd of september for those of you so very forgetful or errously excluded from a written invitation. Theme is... HOBBITS! So only barefoots allowed. And here's the yearly list.

• swimming goggles
• tea
• running shoes
• swimsuit
• cardiometer
• new headphones
• button press supplies
• stamps (lots of stamps)*
• art supplies**
• nail polish (only twelve items to go...)

*please include your address to subscribe to the monthly newsletter
** more specifically : fancy pencils,  A5 artist notebooks, calligraphy ink, soft brushes 

Rant XII

or:  'real literary gifts'

This is not so much a rant as an observation that I've cherished, nurtured and allowed to bloom into a proper well-rounded thought. A little like parenting a small annoyance until it fruits as a full-blown grudge.

Knowing me, you know for certain -for if you do not, you don't know me - how fond I am of reading. And yet in all my live, I have received but one -ONE- literary gift. And even that one - though comical - half blown. But before I give you the details here, I must first explain what en-nerves me so much about what people call literary gifts.


Literary gifts DO NOT include book shop gift certificates.  Neither do paperback bestsellers all too neatly wrapped by expert employees at chain book markets. They are at best a safe way out of the misery finding a present for someone, one doesn't exactly know. A literary gift is not about giving a book, it's about giving a story.

And that is why I consider,  despite the many vouchers, discount tickets, fancy cooking book and 'complete works of ...'* , Jonathan Swift's 'The Benefit of Farting' securely packed in a cardboard shoebox accompanied by a can of beans and a note stating "please render your colleagues lives miserable", as the only gift coming anywhere close to the honorary adjective 'literary'.

*insert 19th Russian or British author

Nekko-do

It sprang into my head as an idea as clear as tap water pours into a glass. And it is as simple as it is genius. So much so that I suspect I'm not the first person to think of it.

Let us begin with the name. It means 'the way of the cat'. In Japanese. Why Japanese? Because it instantly sounds cool. It involves cats  and meditation and perfectioning one's mood, posture and attitude, so it might as wel have been inveted or first thought of in a remote zen buddhist cloister.

What you do is this: you sit in a chair or bench or grassy spot in the sun, it matters little as long as you are secluded from eletronic distractions and major city noise. Now sit perfectly still until a cat selects your lap for a little day time nap. Immediately you will experience the urge to reach for a book, a cup of tea, a glass of wine, you will think of a million chores and feel an irresistible urge to use the bathroom or some long postponed telephone calls. Ignore all these impulses. Slowly and deliberatly stroke the cat and clear your mind of anything but the purring of your feline friend. Continue unil the cat leaves voluntarily.

Et voila.

Happy Birthday

Sweat dreams and best wishes, my darlings.

... she hides in the library, reading... *

" I turned the warm water on and threw in a bar of soap. I soapd her crotch with tingling fingers. by this time my prick was chewing her lips, her ears, her hair. Her eyes sparkled as if she had been struck by a fistful of stars. every part of her was smooth and satiny and her breasts were ready to burst. We got out and, letting her straddle me, I sat on the edge of the tub. We were driping wet. I reached for a towel with one hand and dried her a bit down the front. We lay down on the bath mat and she slung her legs around my neck. i moved her around like one of those legless toys which illustrate the principle of gravity."

Sexus, part I of the' Rosy Crucifixion' Trilogy, Chapter Four - Henry Miller

Thank you, Marl Oliver Everett, for writing the song 'Manchester Girl'*. I might have never read any book by mister Miller if it were not for you.

*Machester Girl
She hides in the library reading
Henry miller books
'til they flash the lights it's time to go
When she was a little kid she said
"dad, i don't know why
I feel so penniless inside"

She's on the promenade
She's looking for a dress
She's locked outside a world
Just a manchester girl

Oh i'll meet you there
By the old newsstand
Oh i'll meet you there tonight

Shoot-out at the neighbor's house
She pulls the covers on her head
She's counting the shots as they go by
And pandora's litter box
Well it's gettin' mighty high
That cat's gonna keep her up at night

Another scary dream
Another cigarette
She's locked outside a world
Just a manchester girl

Oh i'll meet you there
By the old newsstand
Oh i'll meet you there tonight

Martial vs marital matters

A long time ago, the fictional persona Werther pondered upon this 'Must it be that all that makes us  happy, be also the well of our unhappiness?' And since I first read it, it has been the question I regurlarly yet infrequently sigh over myself.

My year so far has been more like something of a dream. With a job that I am finally really enjoying, exams that went better than expected, new and inspiring friends and classes in art school, even -and I may regret ever confessing to this- some peace of mind that I thought I would never know. Except that the heart is not so calm. It still wants everything.

But  what the heart wants, and what the mind thinks is possible are very very far apart. I just wait for an artificial blood pump to become commercially available and then I'll trade mine for its weight in chocolate.

Cappucino cookies

You will need:

- 250 gr of butter
- 250 gr of sugar (I recommend cane sugar)
- 50 gr of cocoa powder
- 450 gr of flour
- 25 gr (or one packet) of baking powder
- 4 eggs
- one large spoon of instant coffee powder
- some vanilla drops (optional)

You must do:

Melt the butter.
Siff in all dry ingredients.
Add eggs and vanilla, mix well.
Let rest for 15 minutes.
Preheat oven to 180° C
Knead well.
Roll out to about half an inch.
Cut out in prefered shape.
Bake for 10 minutes.


I suggest choclate glazing, best served with a nice hot cup of coffee.

I lied.

Who was I kidding, I'll never be able to say goodbye to this webpage. Google may tear it from my cold dead hands.

Count your blessings... or not

But I like the old-fashioned hats... *wimper wimper*

Please give me...

• Your favourite music 
• Your favourite book
• Colouring books
• A multidimensional wardrobe
• Patience

Anything else, I either don't want or already have.

So this is Goodbye

My dear friends, readers, listeners,...

Hello audience and goodbye audience. This; in a shorter sentences than you are used of reading here is all that there is left.

For many many sad and wonderfull years this place has been my home on the internet and it has been my pleasure, frustration and education to be read and ignored alike. In a few day's time I will for the last time invite you alls to celebrate my Birthday  (along with a list of presents I might like -that's how I roll). But on August 1, it is goodbye.

Goodbye.

Black Fury

Strangely appropriate.

The first day of the rest of my life.

I've signed a contract today. With an employer that I dreamed of working for, from almost the moment that I started looking for a job.

I should be overjoyed, shouldn't I?

Then why does it feel like the biggest mistake of my life.

1/10 Myriade

Laat ons vieren vrienden. 1000 bijdragen. Hoezee.

Oops I did it again (and again)

And then to think this is not all my grief.

+
Hair
Eyes
Sense of humour
Bedside Manners


0
Kissing

-
Girlfriend

Rant IX

It was a nervous and early friday and saturday or at least a lot more nervous and early than I've been used to the last 10 months, but let's not get into too much detail. The great garden clear-up has commenced and I belive we might be well halfway with the pruning, chopping, sawing and mowing. In between the scratch of undetermined plant species (with mean thorns), planting my unprotected footsies in a plank with rusty nail, a splinter of a rosethorn firmly in my left thumb and getting a sawed off branch on my head (twice!) I also learned that I was unsuccesfull at the one (ONE!) job interview I have (well, had) in over a year.

Getting used to the new look

My blogger-account, since long under the wings of the fine corporation Google has changed looks. This has been going on for months and I have just noticed this is what it is ment to look like, not a system error.

It's not that I don't like the lay-out. Clean and simple suits me fine. It's that I can't load the pages in Chrome, another fine piece of Google merchandise. Now how am I going to fix this? Or shall I simply hope that the feedback button in the downright corner will functions as advertised?

A single girl's worst enemy....

Being today, less calm then I have been an entire week, it is probably not the best time to vent about an issue rather unrelated to my current anger. However, I may not take the time to do so later and I really feel it need be said.

I have never had many gentleman friends. Boyfriends, boy-friends, acquaintances,... straight or otherwise. All the more I cherish them. I don't show it of course; pretentiously assuming that initiating a date or meet-up is enough compliment for the rational sex.

Whenever it presumed or insinuated that I have ulterior motives (true or not) I panick a little, fearing that I might miss out on company I am fond of. And even worse when the silent accusations come in name of an unknown spouse/sex partner/ girlfriend... Because it is a threat I can defend against.

Therefor dear gender comrades, when your 'man' meets up with a lady friend, assume she is a 'friend' and no more. It displeases me most seriously to lose friends over female jealousy.

What do I do?

I have come to conclude that my life serves no purpose. I do nothing that matters in this world. I do not love. I am not loved. I cannot even hate anymore. I will not have children. I will never finish any, not a meagre 1 of the multitude of books that I have planned or even started writing.

Everything that I could do and don't or still do amounts to nothing.

But the suns shines so ... I might as well gather moneys and spend them on cocktails. 

Gelukkige Verjaardag

For the two very lovely ladies who's birthday we celebrate today. Many happy returns to Emile and Flower-chan.

Rant Xi

It is a longheld belief of mine that too much sunshine kills the mood. Or at least; it kills my mood. This spring has proven no different.

After the initial ecstacy of the summer nearing, I have become my frowning, impatient, short-tempered, grimmy self. I don't foresee any amount of alcohol will cure it. But don't bear with me in the sure knowledge that all might change for the better soon. Just stay the hell out of my way!

Designated Boyfriend

Often I think a girl , especially a single girl has need of a bodyguard friend. Most often to feel safe in dark alleys after sunset. Or to bring all too enthousiastic suitors back with their feet on the ground.

So guys; when a lady friend calls and asks for her favourite snack*, be a man. Get over there and act like her boyfriend.

*or whatever code word that has been agreed on.

Blonde Sympathy

I am a little too late to call my to dye- adventure a sympathy act for a house mate's recent il-fortune when trying to revert her gorgeous copper locks to the natural blonde. I hope she draws comfort nonetheless from the unfortunate outcome of my home-do.

Some advice ladies; whatever our hair needs; go the to hairdresser. You don't want straw on your head.

Fuckedifuck - II

I have been up since 5am, I have slept 3 hours, I have eaten one bowl of breakfast cereal, 3 thin oatmeal biscuits, one bag of crisps, two glasses of wine and some mints.

Yes I'm tired. No I don't feel well.

123

For anyone who keeps an eye on the widgets and applications on the right side of this screen (ba dum tsss), it will come as no surprise to read that or hear me claim te be an avid reader. The less than wonderfull but not too dreadfull year 2011 closed with 123 books on the conto.* I'm very proud. And a little ashamed, because for every minute reading a thousand other more creative things haven't been done. And so set my new goal at a far lower and more modest 1 book to read per week.

If they may be called resolutions, for this year they are not to want, try to be or think too much. But mainly do!

Have a wonderfull and healthy 2012!

*you can check them hereabouts

2012

Keep Drawing

keep drawing from studio shelter on Vimeo.

Spread the love.

The Morgy-Porgy or something else

After extensive internet search in cocktail databases, I have concluded that the juice & spirit mix to which I refer in the title does not as such 'already exist'. Making it my invention and earning me the right to name it.

Below is a recipe, even further below a shortlist of titles.

1/4 Drambuie

1/4 Gin

1/2 Orange Juice

Add orange zest, ice cubes, pink straw(s) and lemon juice to taste.

Shortlist: The Morgy-Porgy, Morgieporgie, Morbo, Ghent Cathedral

On the list

Right before the holiday shopping frenzy breaks out, it's hard to say the following wish / want list is without particular end. It is however to be understood more as a reminder to myself.

• CD Spinvis
• CD C W Stoneking
• iPad
• a few new pairs of jeans
• scented candles
• pink underwear
• cotton socks
• photography books

Rant X (oh yes, very)

I've been in an increasingly bad mood for the past week and there are only trifles and my bad character that I can blame for it.

Combined with a continuing dissatisfaction of not knowing how to interact socially at work and a close friend/ house mate having an accident (drunk on a motercycle) thus ruining my weekend; I'm abot ready to explode and turn once again in the couch gremlin.

It had better not rain tomorrow, and there had better be chocolate left in the cupboard.

Rant X (but not quite)

It has been too long without updates on my personal live.

Of all the logs, blogs, journals and diaries I keep; this is the one place where I can be intentionally vague without being blamed, in fact I feel that it is almost expected of me.

Well I daresay you will not have to wait long before I fall (desperately) in love and I shall need to moan and complain about why the feeling is never ever returned. The person on whom I have set the hopes of my misery and wailing inspiration is a colleague. About my height, dressed casually, nice haircut, hipster glasses, soft voice and timid charachter. But younger and very much taken.

You see my falling for him completely and ensuing heartbreak are inevitable.

Not for daltonists

I am one!

A month ago, coming within three years of my third decade on this planet; I thought myself (and not before time) too old to be falling in and out of bubbly love and unreasonable hate with every change of season. Too old to chase after cute specimens of my kind, too old to still want and desire.

And yet there is hope in my heart. Unfounded delirious joyful hope where all hope should be crushed, dead, extinguished. Hope.

As a wise men said:

"Yes, McCoy. Hope is a human emotion. But after many years in their
continious company I can't escape being tainted. And hope is an emotion I will
not be ashamed of, considered it is turned to good."*

* attributed to Mr. Spock, more or less

Just another blog/internet-thingie

My answers are in the comments!

Nailpolish Medicine

I have before today blogged about how happy painting my toenails makes me. But I daresay there is yet some scientific study and experimentation necessary on it's use as an influenza-medicine; I swear I felt better the second my toes were green.

A poor lonesome house mate

I used to think that I was a loner, since almost everything I like doing (reading, writing, showering, drawing, knitting, ...) is doable alone and I'm never at ease in company. Never.

Until for the first time in a long while I found myself alone at home with no plans and/or intentions. I f*****g hate it. I need people to talk to, to enjoy my food, my wine, my movies, my books, breakfast and newspaper.

Edit: Just realised one thing that is good about having the house to myself: singing along tacky (and not so tacky) music. Very very loudly.

Kuh Kuh Kuh Kuh Kowkayne

While my house mates are slaving to keep the house clean and free of fleas, on the verge of influenza or abroad getting drunk more slowly and expensively then would be possible in governmentless Belgium; I go to work and come home bubbling with joy.

Mostly because I've allowed myself to crush on a colleague, mostly to escape the love sickness of a heart broken in the last year; and which will soon enough case me despair.

I must be honest it is almost alien to me to type theoppostie of hope; I can't yet imagine what horror and sadness and grief I feel when I'm not in this mood and I've been this bubbly for so long I'm starting to suspect my housemates of putting cocaïne in my food. The only reason I know this cannot be possible is that all of them would rather snobble (sic) the fairy dust themselves.

Who put amphetamines in my food?

Happy Birthday to me

Happy Birthday to me

Happy Birthday Moheli

Happy Birthday to me*

27! But I don't feel in the least bit old, merely extremely excited and hoping for either the stripper that I asked for yeserday OR a sports ' enthousiast who'll take me for a quick quarter-thriathlon to pop by. My level of energy is ridiculousy high.

Anyway: thank you everyone for attending; the memory of your company and your (cute) presents will forever be cherished. Anyone who missed it is welcome for tea and leftovers this afternoon/evening.

*lyrics curtesy of Eeyore

Le waste of time

Today I spent 6 hours in meetings. Six.

That's about 5 hours more than I 'm prepared to sit in an uncomfortable chair, listening to management decisions that not in the least concern me. And the one gathering that was actually interesting and interactive was a mixed succes.

Mixed since

a) I wished I would not have had to put up with the blabbing of colleagues/attention whores.

b) I took on some extra-operational responsabilities of which I have ofyet no clue how I'm going to manage them.

Ohne booze

"Ich brauche zeit,

kein Kaffein

kein Alkohol

kein Nikotin"

I'm not entirely sure but considering the stupid things I've said today and how I feel right now; I think giving up alcohol for another year isn't really that bad an idea.

The web is also the ocean

For a while (a time period roughly corresponding with the time in which this blog has been free of vague meanderings and lack-of-love induced laments) I have been wondering about some unsolicited romantic advice. The tip was unasked for AND unwelcome as I took it to be both an accusation and an insult.

To be short it was proposed that I find a potential mate on-line. Much as I like and enjoy my 'connection' with W3 I made it perfectly clear that I prefered my personal relationships to start in real life. And yet every now and then I hear arguments in favour of the suggestion, and never any against.

It is true that I might enjoy a somebody to share my life with but I resent the implicit message that I MUST HAVE a partner to appeciate life to the fullest, even more it annoys me that I am considered to awkward to meet people through day-to-day interaction - even though this is probably true. Since I have given up the wish and hope for a child of my own, I'm in no hurry to lose whatever freedom I have left.

Red is the colour

Is there a greater joy than to have to most perfectly brighly painted toe nails? As summer draws to a close I flaunt the happy footsies for as long as I can.

You've said it Lucy van Pelt

Quote #47

It's been so spot-on my exact feelings so often in my life that I find the saying deserves a better title than 'Quote #47', but I can't think of one.

Though it might not be literally true and though I can't be certain (yet) that he loves her, or she him; this is why I want to cry right now.

The hardest thing you'll ever do is seeing the one you love, love somebody else.

Anonymous

Jerome

Un-notice the garage and mind the basket that I installed myself.

Needless to say I'm very pleased with my new bike, though not so much with the name.

Marshmellow Chocolate

I know it is the so manieth post of which the main volume comprises a picture rather than the digital equivalent of my pen's wanderings but I spend most of my days now organising prose in the following template;

"Dear xxx,

Please blah blah blah.

Kind Regards,

MMM"

and am left with little to no words left for the creation of verbal beauty. Because I wouldn't want to deprive you of what little joy you can gather from thisahere blog, I can only advise you to make some hot chocolate wile it rains. Don't forget to add marshmellows. Plenty of them.

Regional Holiday

I just love excuses for parties. Don't confuse me with the people who would like to call today 'National Holiday'.

The Facebook Dilemma

In a previous post I have announced my goodbye and resolution never again to be part of the curses and blessings of Facebook. Being now over a year clean and untainted by my previous obsession I am however in doubt. I have no wish to join the circus again, but that it may be the only way to contact a cute ex-colleague.

Message in a Bottle

I tend to write down my frustrations, in order to be able to let go of them. Being confused in the last few months about two relatively recent crushes, I had decided to simply write them. Since actually sending the letters might be too confrontational, I'm sending the letters by bottle. The river runs past both their houses so...

51°02'N, 03°42'E

I seem to not be able to help it. Once again I've been asked to contribute to a shared blog, and of course I've said yes. It's public so feel free to visit. I should warn thee all that it's in Dutch though.For those who speak the language, it's pretty obvious what my column title is. Feedback will as always be appreciated.

Want

Too cool!

Get well soon

See how sad and ill I look. Now there's nothing for me to do but sip tea and sing Janis Joplin.

iMac

What's not to like?

Challenge Accepted

I've challenged myself today. Can someone remind me on July 17?

Underwear

Lately I received a twitter request for a picure of my underwear. since I have no high opinion of the petitioner's mastery of the English language; I'm not sure weither there is meant a picture of my lingerie drawer or a picture of me in negligé (a sight too horrid for even my practiced eyes). But either way a positive answer is unimaginable. The illustration above will have to suffice.

All coming back I hope

Every morning to work I cross at least three duck and geese families, all made up of a mother and three to seven littluns. Since I pass hardly any considerable ponds or ditches and ride along quite a lot of busy streets and highways I consider a near miracle that I never so any of them (being) harmed.

I wish the same could be said of hedgehogs and babybirds.

The Receiver of Gifts

Isn't this gorgeous? I really hope I found it at my doorstep because it was intended as a gift for me and not because somebody accidentally lost it there. I should very much like to keep it.

Early to rise...

Wanting to be early at work but not wanting to disturb the guests asleep in the room adjacent to the nearest bathing space, I opted to use the bathroom on the ground floor. Because this bathroom also has in-house access only via someone's sleeping space I chose to enter it by the door from the garden. For which of course I have to get into the garden first and I was bubbling with joy to re-realise how wonderfull early mornings can be.

Morning Has Broken

Labour Day - 2011 Edition

A yearly tradition that I am not ready to give up. Happy Labour Day, comrades!

The Giver of Gifts

It is well-know and therewith I mean: often and generally presumed that the exercising of a virtue is beneficial not only to the soul but also the humour of the virtuous. I can vouch for part of the truth in this matter.

Whilst stumbling of late I came accross an on-line vintage T-shirt dealer and thinking it too long to wait for a certain someone's birthday I decided to simply gift her a dress piece of no particular reason.

Though it cost me, the financial aspect fell into nothing compared with my joy upon observing her joy. Within minutes though I started feeling guilty for not getting my other house mates some gifts also.

Words to live by

This Be The Verse

They fuck you up, your mum and dad.
 They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
 And add some extra, just for you.

But they were fucked up in their turn
 By fools in old-style hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy-stern
 And half at one another's throats.

Man hands on misery to man.
 It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
 And don't have any kids yourself.

Philip Larkin

Ice-cold indeed

I've always known I had a penguin connection.

You Are Antarctica

You are tough, adventurous, and a survivor. You don't let your fears ever hold you back. You like to challenge yourself in all arenas. You want to see the world and make new discoveries. People seem you as distant and even cold... and you admit that this can be true at times. Your own dreams and thoughts are so interesting that they make most other people seem very dull.

What Continent Are You?

Blogthings: Cheaper Than a Therapist

295 days later...

Bubbles books and sunshine.

I have had a lot of inspiration. Or more precisely I've had a lot of ideas for new blog subjects and too little time to write or rather not enough time in front of my computer. The past few days have been rather wonderfull as far as weather and reading is concerned. I have not to complain about food and drink lately but deliciously though I have been fed, it stings that I did not create all those gorgeous goodies.

More to the point with al the warm weather of March a lot of people, including half my house mates have called 'spring' and 'summer'. For me it is only so once we've had the first spring shower. Having had it and having cycled through it for the half hour that it lasted noting will deter me from enjoying time in my garden in the sun.

The professor

Anyone following me on Goodreads, or even simply keeps an eye on my twitter- updates is by now aware that I'm reading 'The Professor' by Charlotte Brönte. In a classic Brönte style, neither language nor plot can be called extraordinary; but one thing puzzles me exceedingly... the attitude of the main charachter towards Belgium, Brussels and the 'Flamands'. Where it not that there is never mentioning (so far) of 'Wallons', as all the native French speakers appear to be either French or Swiss. I might have suspected Charlotte of Southern Belgian sympathies. :-)

Bed Linnen

All morning I had been in doubt about what to do. After waiting an entire morning for at least one channel to show 'Snooker: China Open' only to see Robertson lose :-(, I decided it was time for me to head outdoors. As I had no business in the city centre and no immediate grocery shopping to do, I prepared for a trip to IKEA, where else?

Where I bought the long anticipated, much discussed new bedlinnen of which you see a sample in the lefthand corner. If this wouldn't have made my day, three cups of free coffee, having a chat with some Russian tourists about what streetcar line to take to the inner city and new stationary would have.

Had I not come home to the understandable yet unanticipated cold shoulder of a house mate, it would have been the perfect last day of March.

The Cat Returns (aka Rant VIII)

The cat was lost. Or so I was told. As this did not spark in me inconsolable grief, in fact as this did spark in me only pure rage for everyone who has only time to come to me with troubles and problems almost accusing me to be the cause or expecting an immediate remedy of/for them. The unspoken accusation that I cared nothing for those animals that I call my children, only fuelled my anger (as you can imagine).

In the meanwhile, the cat has returned (as I assumed, where could she rather be, than home?) and if it wasn't for my unforgiving charachter we might forget all about the episode.

The Return of bedside treasures

The title pretty much sums it up really, but I thought I might announce my revenge now I'm at it. The guilty one may check the living room for treasure maps and prepare to hunt and explore.

My future garden (see pic)°

It was a nervous and early friday and saturday or at least a lot more nervous and early than I've been used to the last 10 months, but let's not get into too much detail. The great garden clear-up has commenced and I believe we might be well halfway with the pruning, chopping, sawing and mowing.

In between scratches of dried off branches, stepping into planks with rusty nails, and getting a rosethorn splinter in my left thumb I also heard my job interview was no succes (not the succes I imagined at any rate). Objectively: not the best start for a weekend, but to see my (MY) garden transformed from ugly plastic littered, unpenetrable jungle to patches of shade and sunshine, new delights in every corner,... I daresay there have been worse ends -of-the-day.

° just kidding

International Women's Day

Happy Women's Day! Were I a more engaged and/or political writer today might have been a time to man the barricades and cry for worldwide equal rights. Or shout for action against domestic violence, clitoridectomy, arranged/forced marriages and what not. But I am lazy and suffer none of the above. I wish merely that all my ladyfriends may be happy healthy and well.

Be careful what you wish for...

For very nearly a year, I've wanted you to feel like this. And then when you did, it broke my heart.*


* because it wasn't me

Writing Letters

Forever I have had pen friends, very few have lasted for more than years and even fewer the once I'm still writing. And only one friend have I ever stopped writing to resume sending letters two years later and actually getting a reply.

The joy, as you may imagine is hard to fathom. But even more than finding a message only for me in the postbox I enjoy the act of writing. And I will happily indulge.

Phoneless no more

You may have been notified on Twitter, read it on the Facebook page of a friend/ house mate, guessed it or received a text message from yours truly; if none of the above apply you know now: I have a working cell phone once more.

A long anticipated event, what I did not anticipate was how I managed to live nearly three months without, hardly ever to miss it, but the very minute connection with the network was acknowledged I started to wonder why nobody was calling me. Funny how the mind works.

Sitting on Babies

Finally another blogpost that I haven't stolen. Though I fear it will not be of interest to my younger and/ or male readers.

Babysitting. As a teenager this mainly meant getting paid to stay up late to sit on my aunt's couch, reading her weekly magazines and send my younger cousins to bed around 10pm. Money that, though I may have had the cheapest hobby of all my classmates, I badly needed to build my own library.

Ten years later, also known as the present. Babysitting is still very much a case of couchlounging, drinking, eating and watching television. The akward part for me is when people still want to pay me for my troubles.

Skandal (Skandal)

Other than that I was recently reminded of how much I love this song there is no, I repeat NO to post the folling, but I' ve done it anyway.

Also I haven't bothered much about lyric lay-out. Who speaks German anyway?

In München steht ein Hofbräuhaus
Doch Freudenhäuser müssen raus,
Damit in dieser schönen Stadt
Das Laster keine Chance hat!
Doch jeder ist gut informiert
Weil Rosie täglich inseriert
Und wenn dich deine Frau nicht liebt
Wie gut, daß es die Rosi gibt!
Und draußen vor der großen Stadt
Stehen die Nutten sich die Füße platt!
Skandal (Skandal)
Im Sperrbezirk
Skandal (Skandal)
Im Sperrbezirk
Skandal
Skandal um Rosie!
Ja Rosie hat ein Telefon
Auch ich hab' ihre Nummer schon.
Unter 32-16-8
Herrscht Konjunktur die ganze Nacht.
Und draußen im Hotel d'Amour
Langweilen sich die Damen nur,
Weil jeder den die Sehnsucht quält
Ganz einfach Rosies Nummer wählt.
Und draußen vor der großen Stadt
Stehen die Nutten sich die Füße platt!
Skandal (Skandal)
Im Sperrbezirk
Skandal (Skandal)
Im Sperrbezirk
Skandal
Skandal um Rosie!
Ja Rosie hat ein Telefon
Auch ich hab' ihre Nummer schon.
Unter 32-16-8
Herrscht Konjunktur die ganze Nacht.
Und draußen im Hotel d'Amour
Langweilen sich die Damen nur,
Weil jeder den die Sehnsucht quält
Ganz einfach Rosies Nummer wählt.
Und draußen vor der großen Stadt
Stehen die Nutten sich die Füße platt!
Skandal (Skandal)
Im Sperrbezirk
Skandal (Skandal)
Im Sperrbezirk
Skandal
Skandal um Rosie!
Moral
Skandal
Moral
Skandal
..
Skandal um Rosie!

Style?

Your Style is Bohemian

When it comes to fashion, anything goes for you... especially if it's whimsical and fun. You draw your style influences from all over, and you are a pro at mixing and matching. You believe that fashion rules are meant to be broken. You don't need anyone to tell you what looks good. You rock your own unique and free spirited style. And many people secretly envy you for it.

What's Your Style Type?

Blogthings: Discover the Parts of Your Personality that Have Been Hiding

One thing is certain, if (and I do say IF) I am envied IS in secret.

Concerning Paper Handkerchiefs

(To the wider public known and addressed as 'tissues'. )

Having just recovered from a little cold, ( Read having lived in denial of my illness for three days, only to feel more miserable every day and spending the weekend certain of my soon demise) I noticed while looking for something to blow my nose in, the following:

1) All the fabric handkerchiefs I have are child sized and dito decorated.
2) I have enormous amounts of packs of tissues from which only one was ever used. This lead to the conclusion that I have a lot of available tissues and that ...
3) Paper once designed in colour, touch and smell to relieve the headached and worn-out ill masses may in less than two years completely dry out and metamorphose in vile squares of newspaper paper texture and stiffness.