Cheese time! Happiness is…

… pushing your curtain away in the morning and seeing the pharmacy telling you it’s 16°C.
… doing the same thing at noon and seeing the pharmacy telling you it’s 25°C.
… seeing the sun all day long.
… feeling the last breath of spring before winter kills it.
… suddenly getting a text saying you’ve got 5000 free texts to send.
… ignoring your fear, sending him a text.
… being answered.
… knowing there are no lessons tomorrow.
… still being answered by that guy.
… having eaten together with three other people who live with you.
… drinking wine and eating the cake one of them had taken with her.
… still being answered by that guy.
… being not sad for an entire day.

A once in a lifetime experience.

A Sneak Peak In My Life

What have I learned today in class? Well, I’ve learned that the Russians have a song about a guy who started a revolution. Though I couldn’t read the entire translation, I saw that there was also a young bride involved. Apparently he was a brave man and stuff. All people starting a revolution are brave. But okay.
It seems as if a Flemish guy thought this song was boring though. He kept the melody and changed the words. So now here in Belgium, we sing this song as well, but our lyrics are about a frog sitting on his mother’s knees… Great.
This song is also sung at what we call a ‘cantus’. This is an event that is typical for students. You spend the night singing this kind of songs and drinking as well. Sometimes, alternative versions of a song are allowed. Especially this frog song has a lot of different versions… Before you know it, the frog is sitting there in Gangnam style. Oh yes.
If you’re not going to a cantus, you can go to the Gangnam style TD (Thé Dansant? ThursDay?) in one of the cheap restaurants. Those restaurants are frequently visited by students, ’cause if you are a student, your food will cost at most € 5,10. And it’s quite decent food as well. Sometimes.
For people like me, who suck at any form of cooking, pasta included, this is a blessing. I mean, okay, pasta isn’t that hard, but still I eagerly accept the advice of my ‘house mates’ when cooking. (‘Cooking’) Luckily they are kind enough to help me out. This evening, we’re even going to party in one of the student cafes. Beer for € 1,20; Rochefort for € 1,80, be a blessed student… This evening, vodka red bull will be € 2. Which means I’ll have to watch out.
Not that I ever get drunk. But I could start saying and doing things I’ll regret afterwards. Secretly I hope to see someone again, someone who has been a part in my non-existing love life. I wonder what it will be like to see him again. I wonder what he’ll say. I wonder if I can turn back time a bit. Have I done something stupid? I don’t know.
All I know is that I should be studying instead of partying and writing posts.

That is what I’ll do now. Or else I will get some sleep… Sounds even better. How are you doing?

The Advantages of University

Or rather, the advantages of living in the city of your university. As you know, I have moved to the city where my university lives for five days a week. I live there in a quite old house with creaking stairs, in a room that’s pretty big compared to other rooms. Plus: I’ve got lots of advantages.

Advantage 1: The house is placed at a little square, with almost everything you could imagine needing around: a doctor, a pharmacy, two florists, a nightshop, a bakery, a French fries selling place (is there really no translation for that?),… Two streets further on, we’ve got a shop. Each Wednesday, there’s a market with fresh vegetables and very good waffles and eggs payed per piece, I’ve been told. Awesomeness rating? High.

Advantage 2: From my window, I can see the pharmacy, and this pharmacy has this cross attached to their wall. This cross lightens when the pharmacy is opened, and shows the hour and temperature. Very useful, because it looks cold and rainy and very winter-like all the time. You wouldn’t think it’s still 18°C. It really looks like trash outside. (I hate that. Just sayin’.)

Advantage 3: This city is not very big, so you can do everything by bike. Yay! Driving my bike for ten minutes is an improvement: last years, I always had to drive at least 15 to 20 minutes.

Advantage 4: There are no parents around, there are not so many freaky people around, so if I decide that Tuesday night is the perfect night to have a drink with friends, I can just leave and have a drink with friends! I don’t have to arrange stuff to not drive alone. Here, at home, we live nearby a city that is too unsafe to drive around on your little bike alone. I simply don’t dare to do it. But the city where I spend most of my time is filled with students, and it feels safe. Plus: no one will tell me that Tuesday night is not a good night to go out. Everyone does it.

Advantage 5: It’s simply not my narrow-minded home town!

The New Life

So here I am, in my own little room in another city, having had a lesson, having met new people. Somehow, it seems a bit surreal. I wasn’t prepared, but I don’t think you can really be prepared for something you don’t really know. The most important thing though is that things are going well! Huzzah! I’m lucky to know some people here, lucky to have my brother who has helped me a lot in advance already. Lucky to not be a loner, too.

I’ve been busy yesterday. We were given information, too much, too vague, we could do a guided tour which I did, I had dinner with some classmates and some older people, I had a reception with free wine and a lot of talking. Even about Roman writers. I don’t think I should complain. For now, the people are really nice. Some of them seem to be so young still… Like kids. But after all, it doesn’t matter that hard. I’m so happy I had a busy first day! It felt like a good way to start the year. Talking to as much people as possible seems to be necessary for me. You might have noticed that, I always need people to love me. Attentionwhoring is my hobby. That’s why I started a blog, right?

There are for sure a few things that have been surprising. For example, apparently there’s a guy doing similar studies, and he’s a good friend of a good friend of mine. How small can this world be? One of the funniest things is that everyone is so predictable. You can easily tell their characteristics. Just from the way they look and act. Maybe I’m just right the same. Who’ll tell?

In Belgium, mostly the people move to the city of their university. Some don’t do it, it depends on how far away you live of course, but for me it’s two hours in a bus, doing that everyday is just suicide. So I moved as well. You can live in a residence or in a building that mostly started out as a regular house. We’ve got no roommates, but we live together with people in a building. It’s always a guess, will they be nice? Will they be horrible? I succeed a girl who wasn’t popular here. But the people in this building are all nice and friendly and I can feel at home here. They’re already a bit like family for me, just because we live here together.

I’m starting a new life and I find it both exciting and slightly frightening.O, and my studies? I’ll try to explain: my studies contain Russian and Polish, but not just the languages, also their history and stuff. It’s about both the languages and the area. They’re called Slavic studies. So nothing with dance after all :). I might perhaps do a year of journalism after this, but I’m not sure yet. Depends on how fed up I am with studying…

Thanks for your support, you people are always so nice, and you cheered me up!


Fear (and A Competition)

I’m scared. Yes, I’m really getting scared. In a weird way.
Monday, in two days, I’ll be going to university. For the first time in 18 years (my entire life) I’ll be living somewhere else for the greatest part of the year. And that is rather scary…

In Belgium, the school system is quite easy. You have nursery school from when you’re ready until you’re six. Then you’ve got primary school, with two months holiday every year, until you’re twelve. Next, you go to high school, for six years again, with two months holiday again. Somehow, this step wasn’t that hard to make. I mostly followed my brother to his high school. I knew a few people there, and I was tired of my old classmates anyway. But this last year of high school, I was getting tired of it. I was tired of people telling me what to do. As a real member of my family, I can’t cope with people patronizing me. At seventeen, you don’t want to do useless stuff anymore. I wanted to get out of this grey zone with this patronizing, overly useless courses and teachers. It wasn’t all that bad, of course, but I needed to break free.

Yeah, me too.

Now I’ve come to the point of leaving high school, leaving this city, leaving this people behind (man, like I’ve got tired of people this year!). And now I’m getting scared. I will know no one in my new class! I’ll have to find out stuff by myself! I’ll have to feed myself!
I’ll have to survive completely on my own!

In fact, that’s not true. My brother will be in the same city , some friends will be there as well, plenty of help is available if only you ask for it. And yet it keeps me awake at night. Not too long, because sleep takes over eventually. You get my point. I’m changing my life Monday and I can only hope I’ll make it better. But who can guarantee that my class will be filled with nice, amusing people, that my courses will be fun and that I will be able to handle it?

That’s why I’m scared. Nearly scared to death.

Bonus! If you are a good reader of mine, you could perhaps know which studies I’ll be doing! I need at least one keyword. E.G. ‘Swahili’ if I’d so Swahilian and Star Warsian studies. The first one to guess the right studies may choose his own prize!

Saturday night? Let’s watch The Tudors!

Yesterday, Saturday, a friend of mine celebrated her anniversary. We went to a rather small party with good music every now and then (a nice difference with all the parties without any good song at all). In the middle of our group, we had made a huddle of bags and jackets, because it was too annoying to dance with. The entire evening we have been preventing people to step on our huddle. Imagine four girls (mostly at least one was gone for a drink or something) all of sudden stretching out their arms to block your way. That were we.
So it was a fairly good party, but then, all of sudden, I thought: ‘Oh-oh, The Tudors will be recording tonight, right? Right?’ And then: ‘Oh yes, it’s automatically recorded since last season’. Relief.

Yes, that is what I thought. Because I don’t want to miss a single episode of The Tudors. I’m hooked! And believe me, missing one episode means you can’t understand any further political/emotional development. But above all I’m just a great Tudors fan. That’s a confession.
For those who don’t know The Tudors, it’s a quite recent British series on King Henry VIII and all of his wifes. It’s hard to keep understanding who’s who, who f*cks who, who’s catholic etc. But if you persevere, you’ll be rewarded with dresses that are stunningly beautiful, with a small political background, and even some good music every now and then.

Queen Catherine of Aragon

My father and I have been watching it since the first episode and we are persevering like a sir. We have to watch all episodes together, because mostly I do understand what’s going on more or less, and I need to clear some stuff out during a conversation or decapitation. Lots of decapitations, by the way. It’s hard to believe that people at the court at that time could die a natural death. The best way to commit suicide back then must have been marrying Henry. Or being catholic. Or being reformed. Or having looked at someone the wrong way. Something like that. Especially during the third season, plenty of people have been killed. Like that, every season has its own trademark. The fourth season, currently running here, is all about Queen Katherine Howard and her childish and porn-like behaviour.

Queen Katherine Howard, dancing, something she does most of the time, next to giggling.

None of my friends watches this series, so I couldn’t discuss with them on which wife is the best. Luckily there’s Internet, there’s YouTube and look! Everyone seems to be talking about Anne Boleyn and Jane Seymour and Katherine (three of his wifes were called Katherine)! Hot topic! My father and I have always liked Catherine of Aragon for her solemnity and dignity. Anne Boleyn was the fury, the seductive and tempting one. Jane Seymour on the other hand was calm and peaceful. Unfortunately she wasn’t played by the same person in season 1 and 2. I liked the second one the most, and her music theme is incredibly beautiful and touching. Anne of Cleves wasn’t his wife for a long time, she was nice but quite insignificant. In Belgium, Katherine Howard is ruling now. She’s so childish and annoying… Giggling is her hobby. One more to go… For now, I’m in team Jane and team Katherine of Aragon, and I wonder if Catherine Parr, the last wife, will change that.

As I said, sometimes they use great music. I was really touched at the death of Jane Seymour, especially in combination with the music. Here it is, enjoy and be touched.

eProblems & ICT awkwardness

When I was 12, I was scared of computers. We had computer classes, in which we had to use quite old stuff, and after a lot of very annoying and frustrating experiences, I decided never to touch a computer again, unless I had to. To give an example of the non-luck we had: one day, we were told to make a calendar. A friend and I started working on it (I remember that we used blue and green), saved it… and the next time it was gone. So we started all over. And the next time it was gone. So we started all over. And the next time it was gone. So we had to start all over during our spare time. That’s not fun.

I held onto this principle for a long time. In the second year of high school, I found out that we had to do exercices for French on a CD, so I had to use the terrible monster called ‘computer’. It wasn’t my happiest day. Besides that I had no idea how to type an ‘^’ and stuff. I tried to write all the things I had to write by hand, not to type them. It worked. In the third year, we had ICT lessons. HELL. I hated them. Everyone hated them. I’ve spent so many time inside, while everyone was relaxing outside after lunch at school, just finishing all the horrible exercices… It didn’t really improve my relationship with computers.

But then there was a light slightly growing, something like hope. I was going on an exchange program (for a week) and I wanted to talk to the girl I’d stay with before I’d arrive. So I created an e-mail account. I was fifteen. Then the mailing started, and Internet frightened me less. With the discovery of YouTube a while before this, hope had been growing and now things were getting a lot better. Finding a world of ballet and e-mails on the computer was awesome!

One year ago, I started a blog, and since then computers are necessary for my mental health and everything. But now, things have come to a climax: I’ve got my own laptop.

My own computer. Who’d have thought so?

But in fact, I’ve got it because of what is coming next year. I’m going to move away for the biggest part of the year, to another city because we’ve got no university here. I guess things are more or less the same with you. So, I need a computer.

But I’m still no expert at it, not at all! My father helped me to get everything right when starting it for the first time. That, of course, wasn’t all too easy. I mean, here, in Belgium, we use azerty, and this keyboard is azerty, but when I tried to type my name (including an ‘a’), I found out it was in qwerty. Hurrah! Totally not confusing at all! Luckily these two types aren’t that different, and I’ve got a bit of knowledge of it anyway (strange, isn’t it?). My father told me azerty was only used in Belgium and France, how weird is that?

So, okay, I’ve got this computer running, but now I’m forced to use Internet Eplorer and it is. So. Slow. I had to open your sites twice at the same time, otherwise it wouldn’t open at all. Facebook has been reloading for ages, Google isn’t anywhere near findable. I mean, Google? What the hell? I tried searching it in Bing, but then Bing said “Congrats! You can use your Bing sidebar!!” And I was like “Bing? Bitch please! I want Google!”

I still don’t see any Google. Loading, loading, loading. Arrrrrrr. Sometimes, I still dislike computers.

You only live twice – if you stay with me during a zombie attack…

We’re close to the end of the big contest made by Le Clown. Soon from now we’ll know who’s on the blogroll after all, and who isn’t. We all fought and battled until the last breath, but it was worth it. It definitely was.

Thanks to this competition, people refer to Le Clown’s blogroll as ‘the blogroll’. It’s more like a concept now. Thanks to the contest, I promised to write a post on why you want me in your team during a zombie attack. You know, it’s not unlikely that there’ll be  zombie attack. We can send strange things to Mars, why couldn’t there be zombies then? But don’t worry, if they’re heading towards us, I’ll help you out!
Stay close to me because…

1. I speak four languages, in the near future six languages, and I can translate Latin. I mean, we don’t know which language they use, right?

2. I’m quite good at laser shooting. That means: if you give me a non-moving zombie, enough time, silence and a laser gun, I’ll hit him. Useful, isn’t it?

3. I’m in a team with Love&Lunchmeat. She’s like necessary during a zombie attack. Read why.

4. I’ve got red eyes and a grizzled skin, which must be very attractive to zombies. No one (except freaks) eat people they find attractive.

5. Being right is my hobby. If they decide to debate with me (should we kill you – yes/no), I’d probably win.

6. You’ve got no idea how hard the noses of pointe shoes are. Weapons, that is what they are, real weapons.
(The trick is to use them as slings.)

Take the pointe shoe by the drawstring. Follow further instructions.

Stay close to me and everything will be fine! If you like my entry on the last call for the blogroll, you’ll be on top of the list of people to help. But be quick! Be very, very quick!

Oh, and thanks.

Blogrolls are forever

As an official contestant in Le Clown’s contest, I’m having a great time doing my best to get on that damn blogroll of him! I’m not the only one trying to achieve this, so that adds to the fun. Thanks to the fellow bloggers who were so kind to give me a like, thanks to L&L to accept my team offer (we’ll be beating up the entire zombie community together!), thanks to my new followers, of which a few must have found me thanks to Le Clown.

So, Clown, thanks to you as well.

I mean, you can feel it in the air somehow. Everyone’s eager to participate or help fellow bloggers and I have been patiently waiting all day until I could take over the computer. And man alive, never have I ever had so many notifications! (Though one time, I pressed the ‘unread’ button, as a joke, and there were in fact a few unread notifications! I had never known they were there all the time! It shocked me.)

I’m preparing myself to battle on, and as I promised, I will do a post on reasons why I’ll be useful in case of a giant zombie attack. You have my word!

O, and if you help me to get on that blogroll, I will rescue you during the zombie attack! That’s a promise as well. (You can go here for support, or give this challenge a try yourself – it’s permitted to donate your noses to someone else (me?) ! )

A matter of life and death, clown and contests

Do you know Le Clown? You know him? Then you know what I’m talking about. I’m talking about his terrifying, exciting contest. The prize you get when you win, is a place on his blogroll! I mean, his blogroll! Le Clown is one of those blogs that seem to be the centre of the blogosphere. You’ve got a few of them, and they’re places everyone goes to. Like, a platform to meet new people, fellow bloggers. Right now I’m waiting in fear until he’ll comment on my nomination comment.

Yes, in fear. A place on his blogroll is definitely my dream ever since I was a little girl. Why dreaming of being a princess if you can dream of being on Clown’s blogroll? Exactly.

Most of this post is nonsense, but it might just give me bonus points. Life’s a bitch, and contests are the puppies.


If you like me, you get an extra piece of pie!