Google Reader

I've recently become a big fan of google reader. It is sort of like Facebook, without the networking, if that makes sense. You can see my reader page here, these pages are GREAT if you want to procrastinate at work (not that I EVER do that...as I write this blog, at work...). You can share interesting articles, and your opinions! Spread the love.

The Bike Theft

This week is quite quiet in the office. Alex is in DC and Lucy and Nicolo have left, their replacements will begin in January. Therefore, it is usually just Marta, Nuria and myself working, with Javier popping in a few hours a day. Our office however, is an open plan office, and therefore, it gets VERY quiet. Almost eerily, you can hear EVERYTHING, (or so I thought). However, a very strange (and creepy) thing happened yesterday; while the three of us were upstairs working at our computers, someone snuck into our office and stole Marta’s bike out of the kitchen.

I KNOW!

It’s so strange, because the door is SUPER creaky, so we should have heard the it open, the slower you open it, the louder it is. Therefore, the person that broke in, either must have known this and whipped the door open really fast, or was simply in a rush and just whipped it open without worrying about the noise.

In addition, there are about 3 or 4 bikes outside in the hallway to our office, none of them are locked and none of them were taken.

Marta’s bike was in the back corner of our kitchen, and for someone to come in and take it without being noticed, they must have KNOWN it was there, come in, gone straight to the bike picked it up and walked out.

Oh, and Marta got food poisoning yesterday too, it’s definitely her week.

Checking up on the news. Some serious news for this serious time.

Personal ads at their best, if anyone needs a nemesis, give this guy a ring.

Sooty, after what was probably, the best night ever.

Cookie Baking

In order to help us get in the Christmas spirit, I decided that Emma and I should make sugar cookies. It sounded simple enough, but then again, we're in Belgium.

So, it was sunday morning(ish), and I leave the house to go pick up some flour, eggs, sugar, vanilla, baking powder and baking soda, before I meet up with Okey to go to "brunch" (we were meeting at 3). FAIL.

Almost every supermarket in the area was closed except for a GB express which did not have vanilla or flour. So I picked up a bag of what looked like flour, except it was specially made for bread and muffins. I figured that there was already baking soda in it, and that was the difference, (figured being the key word as the bag was in Dutch).

I get to Emma's and we use a glass casarole dish and tinfoil to cook the cookies on, as we have no cookie sheet (yes, I realize I used the word cook or cookie way too many times). But we simply go for it.

Round one:
the "dough" looked like play-dough that had been left out in the open for about a day. It was crumbly and dry. We tried baking one batch with this dough, and after the tops burned and the insides were raw, we (well I), decided that it simply needed more butter and sugar.

Round two:
I may have overdone it with the butter. The cookies were really, really gooey and they were not hardening when taken out of the oven and put on the rack. We (well I), decided to add a little more flour.

Round three:
The most successful round, they really looked like cookies on the top, however underneath they were a little bit, uncookie-like. However, they still tasted pretty good (you can't really go THAT wrong when combing eggs, sugar and butter).

Now I just have to get rid of these cookies before I really make myself ill and eat them all.

I WANT

HILARIOUS

Christmas Party Eurodad Style

So yesterday we had our office Christmas party slash saying goodbye to Lucy who's moving to Mozambique and Nicolo who is moving to Paris. It consisted of:

• indoor rock climbing,
• a pub,
• Moroccan food,
• getting kicked out of a karaoke bar,
• and a pub.

Needless to say I had to cab it home and the office wasn’t full until about 10:30 this morning (and by full I mean all four of us who now work here).

The Eurostar Experience

The last two weekends I went home, first for Thanksgiving, and then to help my parents unpack all the boxes into the new (almost finished) house (yeah!).

Mom, Beau and I enjoying the new living room!

This required four trips (obviously) under the channel on the Eurostar. Recently, as I’m sure everyone knows, there was a fire in the Chunnel, disrupting the Eurostar service until next year.

Therefore, instead of the normal 2 hour journey, these trips have been anywhere from 2 hours and 20 minutes to 3 and a half hours. Now, on my way in on Monday morning (leave London at 5:54AM, arrive in Brussels at 9:20ish AM), I usually sleep, so I am not sure why there were delays on that trip, but on the others, the reason given was “due to construction, the trip under the channel took longer than planned”.

But the Eurostar experience as a whole is usually très interesting. There is such a mix of people it’s great. There’s ALWAYS, American college students, usually with a big backpack and lots of travel guides, the European (usually German or Italian) young traveler, usually in dreadlocks and a bandanna, the businessman/woman on his or her laptop, looking very important and busy and the British holidaymakers either drunk 30 some-things (usually men in football jerseys) or an older couple on an anniversary trip.

I was trying to decide what category I belong in, as I am so easy to slot everyone else in a category, and I haven’t come up with a conclusion yet. I suppose, I would look like a business person, as I am usually dressed for work on the train, however, I never do anything very productive, except for maybe read/edit a report and then nap. I also usually just bring my Nike backpack (very unprofessional), so I guess I’m a combination of American tourist (sans tourist books) and business person? I have also started to bring my own food, as the train food makes me want to vomit. So at one point I pull out a little packed dinner/breakfast and munch away, (this snack usually consists of spéculoos, a yogurt and a sandwich, wrapped in an old Financial Times I stole from work, which I usually end up reading...try to read around the mustard stain!).

I will be back home for Christmas on the evening of the 23rd, so hopefully I will be able to find a new category I will be able to slot myself into during my 2 hours of intensive people watching.

Public Transport in Brussels

The cold here is unrelenting and devious, slinking into your socks when you are least expecting it and coming out of the folds of your sweater, you feel it between your fingers and it seems to seep out of the computer’s keyboard. I’ve started to layer like a bag lady and walk at a rate that is unnatural when compared to the length of my stubby legs. Neither solution is particularly effective.

I woke up yesterday, in my normal bedclothes of sweat pants, a sweatshirt, a hat, scarf and wool socks, it was pouring with ice/rain outside and I jumped in a warm shower. After wrapping myself up in layers in hopes of staying dry, I walked down the four flights of stairs to the street and started to make my way to work. It was about ten past eight in the morning, so the sun wouldn’t be up for about another hour, and even then the dim rays that can force themselves through the almost impenetrable cloud cover seem so tired from the effort, the morning light is never more than a dim reminder of what a sunrise could be.

We have interviews at work this week as Nicolo our finance director is moving to Paris with his ‘artist’ girlfriend, (she’s a singer/actor, and has been in some interesting African movies, all of which Nicolo has featured at Cineclub, the Eurodad sponsored movie club that he started.) so I had to be at work by nine, I should have had plenty of time.

As I walk down the steps onto the metro platform, I noticed that there were quite a few more people then normal. In Brussels, people don’t seem to have the same idea about “work hours” then the rest of the world, which is great for me when I meander into work at 10 AM, and I am not the last person to arrive, it is also good, because rush hour doesn’t exist, as no one seems to ever be in a hurry. Yesterday however, the platform was teaming with people and they all looked restless. It was before nine however, and I hadn’t had my cup of coffee yet, so I don’t think about it too much. The train comes, it is packed, but I manage to squeeze on, and we go. Well, we go for almost one stop before the train breaks down.

Yes, the metro broke down, and as I was in the last carriage when the doors were manually opened, I had to skirt along the edges of the inside of the tunnel for about 10 yards before I got to the station. Now, in most cities, I would think that after the train broke down and the subway was delayed, the staff would be a little apologetic or at least realize that people have somewhere to be. Not in Brussels, the metro staff decided that this is the PERFECT opportunity to check people’s tickets. Hundreds of people on the platform waiting for another train to come, late, unhappy, wet and clearly impatient are of course the best group of people to check for tickets.

Regardless to say it took me over an hour to get to work. I could have walked it in a shorter time, however the thought of trudging through the ice/rain made me think the wait was worth it.

Shrimp on a Treadmill

Happy Thanksgiving

I am sitting at work, ...working (obviously) - wishing everyone a happy thanksgiving!

Some new Obama appointees:

• Christina D. Romer will serve as Director of the Council of Economic Advisers,
• Melody C. Barnes will serve as Director of the Domestic Policy Council, and
  
• Heather A. Higginbottom (Heather Higginbottom served as Policy Director for Obama for America, overseeing all aspects of policy development. From 1999 to 2007, Higginbottom served as Senator John Kerry’s Legislative Director. She also served as the Deputy National Policy Director for the Kerry-Edwards Presidential Campaign for the primary and general elections. After the 2004 election, Higginbottom founded and served as Executive Director of the American Security Project, a national security think tank. She started her career as an advocate at the national non-profit organization Communities in Schools.) will serve as Deputy Director of the Domestic Policy Council.
  
• Peter Orszag, currently Director of the Congressional Budget Office, will serve as Office of Management and Budget Director, and Rob Nabors will serve as Deputy Director.

For more information about who has been appointed and the positions that still need to be filled, visit THIS site.

While it may look pretty....

Walking through this with inappropriate footwear = not fun.

It snowed all weekend, and while it was pretty and gave us an excuse to stay in warm pubs and drink vin chaud and chocolat chaud and beer, the walk home through the slush, not so fun.

Not to mention, I think the cold weather changes people's behavioral patterns, because I had an experience on Saturday night that included, Chimay Blue, a local brassiere, ABBA, me assaulting a waitress (by accident) and karaoke. For your own sanity I won't go into details, but let's just say...it was interesting, and I blame the snow.

Some interesting things I did while I was sick (the interesting part...that's sarcasm)

I have been out of the loop recently as I have been in bed, alone, bored out of my mind, and feeling worse then ever.

So in my fevered haze, I decided to do some not smart things while I was ill, and I thought by sharing them, maybe I could a. feel better about it, and b. make sure they are not repeated.

1. Watched "Nights in Rodanthe"...I was sick, in bed, delusional, and all I could think was a. why did James Franko do that movie? and, b. WHAT A HUGE WASTE OF TIME, I COULD HAVE BEEN LYING IN MY BED LOOKING AT MY CEILING!

2. Online ebay...the only thing worse then sick ebay-ing is drunk ebay-ing (*note entire Love Comes Softly series was NOT a mistake in the long run).

3. Washed my sheets. I have one set of sheets, and washing them, while you are supposed to be in bed...yeah.

4. Washed my toilet with bleach before I was done with the puking part of my illness. Used up all the bleach...kept puking.

5. Watched the entire season of "The Secret Lives of Women"...and had dreams of becoming a secret body builder with an obsession for tattoos that can not be seen. (Luckily those dreams went away with the fever).

6. Over filed my nails...almost to the point of becoming bloody stumps (not quite).

7. Tried to check my work email, only to respond "yes" to a meeting in Helsinki, that was on the very same day.

All in all, I think I was really productive. And by productive I mean, I think I need to forget that those three days ever happened.

Seven Legged Spider Revisited

So, remember the post where they guy offered his drawing of a seven legged spider for his $200 something bill? ... well, that drawing is being sold on ebay.

For $10,000.


HERE's the link to the auction if we have any interested buyers.

What's really going to happen once Obama takes office

Here, American's fears about Obama, and what is really going to happen once he takes office in January come true...

Get the latest news satire and funny videos at 236.com.

How do we know the economic crisis is here?

A man drew a spider on this bill for over $200 - hoping his artistic talent was enough to settle the score...I'm totally trying this on my next credit card bill.

Bored at work?!

Not anymore!

Below is a "puppy cam" it streams live video of six adorable puppies twenty four hours a day, seven days a week.

Olbermann's "Special Comment" on Prop 8

BABY UPDATE!

Sorry I have been MIA recently, however my little sister came to visit me two weekends ago, then last week was Eurodad’s General Assembly, so things were a bit hectic at work, and then this past weekend, my Aunt, Uncle and Grandmother came over to see me (yay!). So I have been a bit busy, but I think things seem to be settling down.

Ok, so some people (Sarah/Jane…) have been wondering about my roommate's (supposed) baby. To update you on what is going on with the “baby situation”, a week or so after the previous post, my housemate who lives on the ground floor from Canada (who thus speaks French) was having dinner with me in my kitchen and struck up a conversation with the roommate. They were talking and talking, and it suddenly came out that I thought I kept hearing a baby (and seeing baby cloths on our drying rack etc.), she laughed and explained that it was her SISTER’s baby. Her sister was away for two weeks and she was watching it.

OK, so either she’s a liar or the best sister ever. Because I don’t know about you, but if either of my sisters have a child, and I’m sure at one point they both will, I will be more than happy to have the kid for the afternoon, maybe even for the night, but I will most certainly NOT be looking after that child for two weeks while the mother peaces out. I mean, what kind of MOTHER leaves her baby, who can’t be older than 20 months, for two weeks with her 22 year old sister who is a STUDENT?

So the baby is now only around some mornings, and the other day I even saw the dad drop it off, he looked quite young as well and looked as if he was going to work. I just hope that, as it seems as though my roommate watches this baby a few times a week, she is getting some compensation other than family appreciation for her work.

Adventures in Deutschland

As you can see from the new pictures, Emma and I recently had some wonderful adventures in Germany. So I will briefly give you a tour of some of our highlights, (and maybe lowlights) of the four day trip.

Day 1: Brussels to Cologne.

Friday was a rough day at work, and so I was the last one out of the office, I didn’t finish all of my work, I knew I was going to have to find a computer and do some work over the trip which was a bummer, and worst of all, everyone else in the office left me alone so they could go to the pub and drink. Needless to say our trip did not start on a very high note.

So I finally get out of the office, I feel crappy and I just want to get on the train and go…unfortunately our train was delayed by about an hour. In addition it was WAY overcrowded as two trains sort of merged into one, and people were sitting in our seats. Luckily Emma and I grab two seats by a table and set up camp, and as we got closer to Deutschland, the train emptied out.

We arrive in Cologne (or Köln in German), and as we exit the train station, we are greeted by an awe inspiring Cathedral. The Dom.

The Dom is Cologne’s claim to fame, as it is the largest Gothic church in Northern Europe. Ready for a day ahead, we hopped onto the trams, got to our hostel, appropriately named “Black Sheep Hostel”, and went to bed early.

Saturday, our day in Cologne was a whirl of museums and churches. Our greatest feat for the day was tied between our climb to the top of The Dom, it is about 150 meters (just under 500 feet) high, and finding the most delicious bratwurst EVER. (It was from a street vendor and when you bit into it, there was an explosion of delicious meat flavour in your mouth…SO GOOD).

Day 2: Cologne to Hamburg

After a great day in Cologne, we picked up our bags from The Black Sheep, and hopped onto the train to Hamburg. The train ride was about four hours long, and we arrived in Hamburg at about 1 AM.

The next day we woke up to grey clouds and chilly weather. We went down to breakfast, and the woman working at the hostel said we MUST go to the fish market, except it was already about 9:30 AM and it finished around 10. BUT WAIT…(someone from another table announced)…the clocks went back last night, it is only 8:30 AM! So Emma and I ski-doodle out of the hostel, hop on a tram and make our way to the Sunday morning Hamburg Fish Market. The vendors sell their wares at this market by shouting as loud as they can. I’m not 100% sure what they were shouting, (as it was in German), but they either sounded really scary/angry or really, really excited about their goods.

We make our way down to a big old warehouse, and inside is a sign that reads “Oldies are the goodies”. It is a great hall full of people, the average age is about 65, it is still about 10 AM, and everyone has beer, and oh yeah, there is a REALLY bad cover band of Billy Joel, playing VERY loudly. But when in Hamburg…so we buy a beer and take a seat.

From Hamburg!

Due to the awful weather, after a few hours of wondering around the city, and going up the tower at St. Nicolai’s tower, Emma and I decide to venture out of the city and go to what was described in the guidebook as a “Swamp house museum”. It was about 30-45 minutes away by metro.

WOW. We got off the metro and found ourselves in the BURBS, we could have been in Upstate New York or Connecticut by our surroundings. It was raining and we were cold, so we found a wonderful coffee shop (as you do in the suburbs) and warmed up. We then asked the girl at the counter (she was really nice) if she knew where the swamp museum was. She looked at us strangely and we knew we may be in for a surprise. “Swamp museum?” she asked, “Do you mean the Museumdorf?” …”Sure…” we reply hesitantly, and she gives us directions, and even draws us a really cute map. Warm and replenished, off we go to the Museumdorf.

We arrive, it’s still raining, and the “museum” is basically a historical society type set up with a bunch of old houses (they’re actually new, but they were recently made to look like old houses) in fields. And oh yea, the museum is closed. So we’re standing around, looking at the houses, I’m obsessively taking pictures, and Emma is trying to find something to read when an adorable old man comes up to us.

It turns out he was the volunteer who worked at the museum that afternoon, he was supposed to have a tour at three, but no one turned up. He graciously reopened the main house for us. He then talked to us about the “drive through house” where farmers would have two huge doors at the front and back of their house, once they were done in the fields they would drive their horse and buggy in through one door, unload, and drive it out the other side without having to turn around or back out. He also explained the “Aunt Emma” stores to us, which is basically the equivalent to old Mom and Pop stores in the US, but were run by old ladies or “Emmas”…haha.

After a great tour and look around, we bid our friendly guide adieu, and made our way back to the train.

Day 3: Hamburg to Lübeck

At the beginning of every Disney movie, there is a blue screen, a white entranceway with flags on it, and Walt’s signature, along with Tinkerbelle. We’ve all seen it, however, I now know where the inspiration for that entrance drawbridge came from. The entrance to Lübeck, a small town north of Hamburg.

Lübeck is beautiful. Emma and I spent the day wandering the streets in awe. We ended up in a bar around 2 PM, which proudly advertised that smokers are welcome. We walk inside and near the door are three older ladies (about 70 -80 years old) and at the table next to them two men of a similar age. They look as though they had been there all day, and every 10 to 15 minutes, another shot is poured. They smoke like chimneys and are in every way an institution. It was wonderful. To everyone’s (especially the two old men’s) delight, Emma asked the bar tender for two shots of vodka, we downed it, paid up and peaced out.

I had to take a quick work break, so we searched for an internet café. Of course the first two computers I sat at did not work, but after about an hour, my work was finished and we explored the streets for dinner (I forbid Brat, while it is delicious, we basically have had it for every meal since we arrived in Germany).

Back to Hamburg that night, up the next day, we walked along the boardwalk a little, before boarding a train back to Cologne, and then back to Brussels.

Interesting Article

Here's an interesting article up on the Eurodad website. It's an FAQ about the Bretton Woods II meeting, Bush announced yesterday.

Although it will be a bit weird to have this meeting, which is so important and timely, during a moment when the US will essentially have 2 presidents. I wonder if the president elect (if we have one by then!) will be invited to attend?

Back by popular demand: The Toilet Paper

I've been getting questions about whether or not I've resolved the toilet paper debacle with my mysterious roommate.

The answer: Yes.

We were out of toilet paper (yet again, I swear she must use like half a roll a day) and so I went to the grocery store to get some more. I usually buy toilet paper in the market around the corner from where I live because it's closer, and toilet paper (especially when bought in bulk, which I need) tends to be cumbersome. However, this day, I was at the grocery store for some delicious fresh squeezed orange juice (yum) and I decided to deal with it, and carry toilet paper home with my groceries as it would be a lot cheaper.

I rounded the corner of the "paper products" isle, one I usually miss, and saw an array of colors and scents when faced with the toilet paper choices. I instinctively reached for my normal white 2ply paper, and glanced at the price. Just under 2 euros for six rolls, not bad. I then turn and see the now familiar yellow quilted 4ply paper (note it's also vanilla scented, god only knows what kind of chemicals are pumped into that). I sigh, and glance to see the damage; 1 euro.

I know...right?

It was CHEAPER to buy the 4ply scented yellow quilted toilet paper then the white normal two ply. Apparently I was the one living the luxurious life spending more than 1 euro on toilet paper.

So, with a shrug, I toss the white paper back and grab the quilted, maybe my roommate will think I have reformed. I mean if she does think that, she will still have no way of telling me, but still.

Being sick

I've had the "sniffles" for the past few days. It's awful, I hate waking up in the morning and not looking forward to what's ahead, but when I am sick, all I can feel is the pressure in my head and sinuses and my inability to breath, and instead of wanting to get up and go to work, all I have wanted to do is go back to sleep for a few more hours. No fun.

However, last night in an effort to fight this thing off once and for all I drank an entire litre of freshly squeezed orange juice (another GREAT thing about this country is that many supermarkets have an organge juice machine, where you can literally WATCH the oranges get cut in half and squeezed into your empty bottle, it's fabulous) and went to bed early. So this morning, for the first time in a few days, I got out of bed before I've absolutely had to, jumped in the shower, blow dried my hair and even put on some makeup (not a lot, but the point is I made the effort). So I think the score right now is: Cold- 0 Phil-1. yay!

In addition to that, yesterday at the end of my French class, François, my wonderful teacher, told me that I was doing very well as I was heading out. She said that I was picking up the vocabulary nicely and I was progressing with great speed, I basically floated home (the ten feet across the street).

So it looks as though things are looking bright. Work is pretty chill this week, I have some fun weekend plans (Okey, we are GOING to the clubs up by the Atonium), I got my "Tastefully Scary" invite which took me about fifteen minutes to decipher, and even though I can't fly back to DC to attend the bash (I wish), it definitely made my day and I am feeling about 80% healthy, which is a large jump from my 75% yesterday!

Now Emma and I just have to make the final plans for our trip to Germany next weekend and I will be a very happy camper.

Funny Blog Post

I found this thoroughly entertaining.

Explaination for below post (Poll)

I'm meant to be putting a quiz up on our website, so I wanted to test this one out to see how it looked on the blog...

Thoughts?

Poll: Which is more rainy, London or Brussels?

Quizzes by Quibblo.com

The Good the Bad and the Ugly: Some things that I particularly like or dislike about Brussels

I’ll start of with the positive.

1. Brussels is very near many other GREAT European cities, so on the weekends I’m trying to see as many as I can. Thus far I have: The Hague, Amsterdam (x2) and Ghent. However, I hope to visit Hamburg, Delft and Cologne very soon as well.

2. Brussels pumps good music through speakers in their metro. Now this music isn’t very quiet background noise, it is very audible. In addition, at night, the music becomes a calming classical tune in hopes of preventing violent crimes.

3. As it rains at least once a day (for the most part), so I no longer mind wearing my hair back as it would get messy /wet if I wore it down.

4. My French school (Peter’s School) and my French teacher Francoise are so great. Peter’s School is literally across the street from my house (no excuse not to go!) and it is in this old corner town house that has scaffolding on the outside. It’s tiny (I’m one of four people in my class) and really personable, even if the class rooms are a little bit run down. Not to mention Francoise (pronounced Fran-swas, because she’s female) is the cutest teacher ever. She must be in her mid to late 60’s and literally makes my 1.5 hr class fly by. I LOVE IT.

5. Street markets are a big deal here, and there’s a great one on my street every Thursday. You can buy anything from socks to used bras, to cheese to produce. It’s kind of like a mixed bag. But the venders are very friendly, and the neighborhood is adorable.

6. Gaufres, or waffles (see I’m learning French!) that are sold on the street all over the city helped me survive the walk to work today (there was a general strike, so all public transportation shut down). They are warm and sugary and amazing. The best I’ve had yet are in the Schuman metro, the vendor takes them right out of the waffle machine and into your hands (no reheating there!).

7. Frites. Street fries here are great, even if you don’t eat them walking down the street you can’t help but smell the yummy fried potato-ness. I found out the difference between Belgian frites and French fries is the size. Frites are thick and French fries are cut as thin narrow strips.

8. La Maison du Peuple (pronounced- P-uh-pb…I think) is a great bar around the corner from my work, with a great happy hour (1/2 off cocktails) and delicious and reasonably priced food!

9. Fruit flavoured beer, such as Kriek. You either love it or you hate it, but I think they are delicious. I like them all but right now I’m on a peach kick. (I know, very girl-y).


OK so things that aren’t so great about Brussels


1. The weather! It makes London look like a tropical island (maybe not really, but it’s pretty depressing)

2. The two language thing is pretty confusing, if you happen to sit down at a Flemish restaurant (be it an Irish pub or a pizza joint) and you try to speak French, many time the server will ask you to speak in English as they “prefer” it. The confusion mainly stems from the fact that Brussels is French speaking pocket in the Flemish Brabant region of Belgium. So the two communities, who usually remain separated, are forced to live together in Brussels. Although, the word for pharmacy in Dutch is Apoteek, and I think that’s a great word. However as a down side, when you watch a movie in the theatre, there are subtitles in TWO languages at the bottom of the screen, talk about distracting.

3. It’s grey. While in Amsterdam, Emma and I noticed how pretty the city was aesthetically, we realized that the reason Brussels seems so depressing most of the time is because the buildings tend to be grey or dull. There are some really cute areas of the city where this is completely false, but as a gross generalization, Brussels is just not that pretty.

4. The Belgian Bureaucracy, mainly that everything takes FOREVER. For more on that, please see my previous entry.

5. Did you know that there was no active Belgian government for a while last year. Me neither, even after living here for a month, that’s how lame this country is.


Not to be a downer, but just thought I would share some of my knowledge of this city. There are some great things (Note: the Atonium and mini Europe are missing from this, that is because when I was supposed to go a couple weekends ago, I slept in…all day. I therefore only got some pictures of the Atonium from the outside, but I AM going to go, so more to follow on that).

I'm not sure if I'm horrified, or really entertained

See more funny videos and funny pictures at CollegeHumor.

Dirty Dirty Ghent (two completly seperate events)

Today was wonderful...I woke up early and Emma and I went to Ghent (see slide show in the right hand column of this page). The best thing about our day trip was A. it cost only 8 euros for the train ticket and B. it was a beautiful sunny day.

Ghent is probably the cutest town ever. It has old cathedrals and a canal, not to mention an H&M that looks as though it is from the 1800's (I bought some very cute sweaters).

HOWEVER, today's BIG triumph came later. (background). Emma and I love to go dancing. We enjoy a night out where we burn as many calories as we drink (maybe). We therefore found a dance club that we call "stumbling distance" from our apartments. It is called "Dirty Dancing" and it is the "hottest night club in Brussels". Now this purposed a problem, because as it was "hot stuff", it became super pretentious and decided not to let anyone in that did not know someone with an "Access Card", and the only way to get an "Access Card" was to know someone with an "Access Card". (It's sort of a catch 22 there, and sort of difficult to get around). So, Emma and I decide that we are GETTING IN to this club as it is so close to where we live, so we get dressed up in our very nice outfits and get there early.

Here's the truth: as beer is normally sold out of vending machines here, I don't believe that there is a drinking age, seriously, as long as you can punch in the number you can drink here. So Emma (who is an old woman at 26 years old) and I were honestly old ladies (I'm 22). So we go to the door of the club, and realized that THEY (as in the institution) did not want us in. There was just one problem, if you do not want mousy browned haired girls, with confidence disproportionate to their looks and skill entering your club, especially if their name is Philippa Wood, do NOT have a homosexual man as your bouncer.

Seriously.

Conversation: "Hi, we really wanted to get in to your club"

(Bouncer) "Yea, that is not possible tonight, we are full"
(us): "No, we REALLY want to dance and have some drinks and have a good time, ... please?"
(bouncer): "No"
(Us): "Look, we're two American girls who live nearby, and we want to dance...please let us in?"
(Bouncer): "Wait two minutes, I need to talk to my boss"
.....
(Bouncer, back from inside): " Look, I talked to my boss and the thing is, you may not like the people or the music, but, I really, really like your shoes (points at my ridiculous heels with a pointy tip)...so, I'm going to let you in"
(us)..."What's your name?.." (as in we have a new best friend)

...
Moral, if you open a club and you don't want to let old (by old I mean older than 19 years old) girls in who have AMAZING taste in shoes and who's confidence is once again completely disproportionate to their looks and ability (thank you Tina Fey), do NOT hire homosexual men as your bouncers.

Regardless, today was wonderful.

Free Concert Webcast

It could be entertaining if anyone is interested, just make sure you register online!
-------------------------------

What. 2008 Operation Kids Lifetime Acheivement Award Gala, honoring John Walsh. Hosted by Dennis Haysbert, featuring a FREE tribute performance by Collin Raye and Jim Brickman.

Watch. Collin Raye perform live at the 2008 Operation Kids Lifetime Achievement Award Gala. We will be streaming his performance FREE online with the help of Fox13 and XanGo. Saturday, October 11 at 9:00 p.m. (Mountain). (don't worry about forgetting, we will remind you!)

Register. It is FREE, but you must register to watch. Register by Friday, October 3, 2008, for a chance to win Collin Raye t-shirts, CDs and TWO tickets to the gala (must provide your own transportation to SLC).

Win. There is also a way to win the guitar played and signed by Collin that night (it's an Epiphone if anyone is familiar with guitars - a professional-quality guitar worth quite a bit)

Register at: http://operationkids.org/register

Why I dislike Fridays...

For some reason, it seems as though all the office equipment likes to start the weekend early. Don't get me wrong, I'm all about seeing if I can pop out of the office a little bit early (at Eurodad, early is before six) on Fridays for happy hour. However, if the server, the website, the printer, the copier and the newsletter host all go down on the same day, chances are I'm not getting out early. Just like today.

The IT guy was coming in today at 10, so I meander in around 9:50, in my self proclaimed "casual Friday" outfit (the boss is out of town, I'm taking advantage by not doing my ironing). I sit down and log into my computer and realize I have no mail. This is simply an impossibility as for some reason people love to send me mail around the time I'm leaving the office, so I always turn off my mail before I finish my last job so I won't be distracted and can leave at what may possibly be a reasonable hour (or at least earlier then the even more unreasonable hour that I would leave if I left my email on). So I knew something was wrong.

I had such good intentions of editing the report that was put on my desk last week and getting out the French newsletter before lunch. Alas, the server and website had other ideas. Regardless, the IT guy came for about four hours, and as he was leaving I asked what he had done and what we should do if Outlook refuses to connect to our computers again. He looks at me a little funny and says "I don't know, call me".

I try to explain the economic restraints of an NGO and how paying him a ridiculously high hourly rate once a week or so is a little out of our price range. He then did what so many Belgians do when they don't like what I'm saying; he pretended that he didn't understand English. Regardless, I was the first person in the office (yes, I came in at 9:50 and yes I was the first...I did say that the boss is out of town right?) and the last person out of the office, on a Friday.

But the evening wasn't all bad, I met up with a friend for margs and a movie (mama mia, I napped to ABBA - but PS they serve beer and wine at movie theaters here, I fell asleep before I could drink mine so I now have a can of unopened fruit beer next to my bed) and then watched the season premier of House on my computer. I'm now stress eating nutella out of the bottle and deciding if I should go to bed or make sure the French newsletter went out alright. I should probably sleep, but I will after I check up on the newsletter.

I can't WAIT to see what exciting adventures the weekend holds (SPOILER ALERT: I have plans to go to Mini Europe and the Atonium, yeah, I'm THAT exciting).

PS, if you can't get enough of my blogging here (Eric, I know you're at work reading this) you can also see the blogging I'm doing for work, if you scroll down a little on this page and click on the link called "The BetterAid Blog" I've started to write posts for that as well as it's run by Eurodad.

The Mysterious Baby Caper

Not a lot has changed in my relationship with my roommate. It’s very convenient, almost as if I live alone, except, miraculously things get cleaned up, it’s really not too bad. There is one strange thing, (well two counting the toilet paper…still an ongoing ordeal in my everyday life) every morning when I’m eating breakfast (the door to her room is in the kitchen) I hear a baby. Every morning. Now these rooms are specifically rented to singles. It was made very clear to me that under no circumstance was I to have anyone else live in my room, and the same went for everyone else in the building. Does a baby count? 1.5 people is not the same as two. You would think that if this girl had a baby, my landlord would have told me about it, if only so I would turn my music down earlier or keep my noise to a minimum when I went into the kitchen for a midnight snack. But, he never mentioned it. In addition, when my roommate does her laundry, every now and then there’s a baby tee-shirt or bib hanging up with her clothes on the drying rack.

Due to the facts presented:

A. Baby noises every day

B. Baby clothes out to hang

C. No mention of a baby by the landlord

There are only two possible explanations.

1. I’m losing my mind and there is no baby, I’m just hearing things, and my roommate likes to wear really, really small belly shirts.
2. My roommate is hiding a baby in her room and my landlord doesn’t know.

Now, both these options seem very possible to me, however as time goes by I’m really starting to lean towards number two. So what do I do? Should I mind my own business and leave it alone. I’m honestly not bothered by the baby; I have yet to hear it cry at night (although there’s some definite gurgling). Should I learn a few French sayings about babies and see how my roommate responds? (I say see, because no matter what I memorize, I will still have no idea what she says when she responds). I tried: avez-vous un bébé? Once, but I don’t know if she didn’t understand or what, because she stormed out of the kitchen without answering me. But then of course, I could always solve this case and simply ask the landlord. However, if she is in fact hiding a baby, I don’t want her to get kicked out and be homeless on the streets with a child. I would feel a little bad about that. So what to do, I’m also thinking I could get my downstairs neighbour who speaks French to sit in my kitchen with me and ask her about it if she’s around. I tried that once and we sat in the kitchen for over an hour, but my roommate never appeared.

Reporter Fail

FINALLY SOMEONE TO ASK QUESTIONS TO

Interesting...

So, tonight Eurodad co-hosted a round table discussion with The German Marshall Fund of the United States. It was a discussion on what to do now that the High Level Forum in Accra is over. Since Lucy, my coworker who wrote the report that was to be discussed at the meeting was in Accra (of course) last week and busy getting ready to go to Accra before that, I helped her out with a lot of the logistics of organizing a meeting (i.e. sending out invites, calling people to remind them to RSVP, going to the hotel, booking the equipment for the meeting room, going to the printers to print reports etc.)

So, the moderator of this forum was Jim Kolbe , who is kind of a Republican rockstar (in my mind) as he was the first openly gay Congressman to address the Republican National Convention. So he's republican, and openly gay.

After the forum, the people from the German Marshall fund took me, my co-worker Lucy and Mr. Kolbe out to dinner to thank us for working on the event (free food and wine yummy!) and somehow...(I wonder how, as all of you know how NOT pushy I am) I end up sitting right across from Mr. Kolbe.

Game on.

So, as an openly homosexual man who is pro choice, how can you really support a McCain/Palin ticket?

How does Hector your life partner feel about your stance on immigration?

Foreign policy wise, aren't you afraid McCain may be a little aggressive towards nations such as Russia?

---

BEST DINNER EVER.

He calmly discussed how even if the republicans win, it WON'T be the end of the world, and if Palin becomes VP, there's no way there's not going to be a very strong Democratic congress who are a million times stronger then any VP could ever be. On top of that, the only people who LOVE Palin, are people who would have voted for a republican anyway, the middle of the road voters who could go both ways will probably be swayed against the ticket as she's so extreme (although I pointed out that there was NO evidence of this but I'm pretty sure the dear man was trying to placate me, and it sort of makes sense.) Anyway, we spent the first half of the dinner discussing politics (as he was A NATIONAL SENATOR) love it. And the second half becoming best friends.

OK, so let's rewind, as I said before, he's openly homosexal. Therefore, we are now super best friends. I may have come off a little strong, and at first I thought it was in my head, but as we were walking out of the restaurant, my coworker Lucy goes...

"Phil, seriously, I watched you charm that man from the moment you sat down, if your pay was based on charm, you would be rich...it's not, but if it were".

Yeah, so apparently that was NOT in my head. And apparently I'm WAY more conservative then I thought I was. Well not socially but neither was he.

As we were chatting I found out that his roommate at Stanford University lives in New Canaan, and his roommate's son (Chris Hughey?) was in my grade, and he happens to be is his godson, and we had physics together senior year (yes, I pointed that out)... small world much?

Yeah, so I got home from "work" at 11pm today, but that's ok because I finally found a republican to get my anxiety out on, and it was wonderful.

Note.

Could you please notice that there is an ad at the bottom of this blog (scroll all the way down). The ad is put there by google, who takes topics from my blogs and determines what topics the ads should be on. Recently there have been language schools in Belgium and Online Toilet Paper sales, all of which I have found both humorous and appropriate. Now however I am ASTONISHED to see that there is a Scientology video link ad.

WHAT in gods name do I have (ok note. I will now be taking out the word GOD from my blog) on this blog that would make google think that people interested in Scientology would be reading it? Seriously? Is it the politics reference, because I know that Oprah likes Obama, and Oprah likes(ed) Tom Cruise, but that is basically the only connection I can find.

I just wanted to share with you the kind of profiling that google thinks is efficient.

Sidebar- I am volunteering for the Democrats Abroad organization this weekend, as I felt so guilty about all those non-Americans doing it, and interestingly enough it is only the Democrats abroad (not Republicans abroad, they don't do this) that works with vote from abroad.org to get Americans (regardless of their party preferences) to sign up and vote while they are living/studying abroad. So I thought THAT was interesting.

Palin:

I’ve been asked by quite a few people about my views on Palin, as an active Hillary lover it’s been awful seeing many compare the two simply because they share a chromosome. I respect and support Hillary for many reasons, one of which is because she is a women, however Palin’s description of herself as a “bulldog” during the Republican convention does not draw a very complimentary picture for women in politics. Do women have to be aggressive and threatening to get ahead in politics?

In addition to that it is astounding to me that a women whose 17 year old daughter is pregnant still does NOT believe in a comprehensive sex ed program. Now I don’t think we should throw condoms at high school students and tell them to jump in each others beds but “abstinence only” programs are simply not effective (point in case: Bristol Palin).

There’s also a strange arrogance that Palin carries around, she’s “pro-life/anti-choice” even in the cases of rape or incest, in addition there was also an incident when she tried to ban library books. It’s this superiority complex that really makes me fearful of a “Palin Reign”. If children go to the library to take out books, it should be the responsibility of their parents, NOT the government to censor which books are taking out. However, it seems as though Palin genuinely believes she knows better then the 'average American' (aka, you and I). She wants to make important choices in our children’s lives that we have no control over. And to me, that is very dictatorial for a democracy (republic).

The fact is, Palin may be a women, but seems to be like the scary nun that hits bad children with rulers, where Hillary seems more like the aggressive smart girl in your senior year who ran for every political office possible, and never got below an A-.

Now to be fair, Vice Presidents are not known to have the most influence or power during their administrations, (unless their names rhyme with Sick Faney and you run the administration like a puppet government through your office at the pentagon.) but with McCain’s age and cancer history one can only hope for the best and expect the worst; and in this case the worst is definitely Palin coming to power and deciding what is best for Americans. As a self proclaimed “pit bull” it would be easy to forget that while she may have won the election, the country is extremely divided. The elections are going to be very close, and if she decides what is best for all with a strong hand, when just about 50% of Americans do not agree with her policies, the Republicans may pay a very high price, but that won’t come close to what the Democrats will pay.

Obamu-ndo

I had an interesting experience this past Friday. The Brussels branch of Democrats abroad was showing Obama's speech in an Irish pub by the European Commission. I decided that I would rather watch his acceptance speech on a nice big screen drinking with friendly people who were also interested in politics than alone on my bed on my tiny computer screen on YouTube.

I therefore dragged my Nigerian friend Okey with me to the pub and there we met a plethora of people anxious to get Obama voted into office, whether they had a vote or not.

I always found it interesting that when people travel to foreign countries, they flock to people like them; Americans generally hang out with Americans, Brits or Canadians etc. I was therefore surprised to see that of the 100 odd people that showed up to see Obama speak, about 45 of them were not American citizens. While I understand that this was social event and like me, many Americans could drag their non-American friends along with them, that is understandable. However, it was not like that, many of the foreigners (mainly Germans, Swiss, French and Belgian) were very ACTIVE in the Democrats abroad organization. While they are not allowed to donate any money, they are active volunteers getting Americans abroad to register to vote, because many are not.

Isn't that interesting, that foreigners are persuading Americans to sign up to vote for THIER President. It's kind of embarrassing even. Why aren't Americans who are living abroad already registered to vote, and why do they need to be pushed to register?

I suppose I understand people's frustration in the American public, after 8 years of G. Bush, it seems as though Americans need to be slapped in the right direction (that direction being...left), especially on foreign policy. But is it really appropriate for foreigners to be participating so actively in the American political sphere?

Who knows, I think it's great that people want to help out, but it makes me sad that more Americans are not active in this area, especially in a place as politically minded as Brussels.

Apparently,

if I continue in this line of work, THIS is my future.

Bleak.

Den Haag and Amsterdam

Den Haag.

This past weekend I went to visit my friend Ben (whom I met in Bhutan, is from Arizona and now goes to NYU Law school) in The Hague in The Netherlands. Apparently, Holland is the only country in Europe where the seat of government is not in its Capitol, which is of course Amsterdam. It is located in The Hague. This supposedly has something to do with the Napoleonic Wars. According to my wonderful tour guide and wikipedia; after the Wars, Belgium and the Netherlands became a single country, the United Kingdom of the Netherlands. This was a protective measure against their powerful neighbour France. However, to be fair the capitol of this new country alternated between Amsterdam and Brussels every year. To avoid mass confusion in the Netherlands however, even though the capitol changed every year, the seat of government remained in The Hague full time. The two countries were separated in 1830, however the capitol continued to be Amsterdam, and the government remained in The Hague.

We had a great time, everyone in the city bikes around, after walking out of the train station on Friday night; I was greeted by a sea of bikes parked (sometimes precariously) in front of the station. Most of the streets have bike lanes, and if they do not, the bikes, cars and scooters weave in and out of each other in what looks like a sometimes nerve racking dance. So Ben and I rented bikes (see pictures) and biked around the city, going to The Mauritshuis museum where I finally got to see Girl With a Pearl Earring; which, ever since I’ve studied Vermeer in High School, has always been my favourite. We then went to the beach at Scheveningen right outside the city, and walked down the boardwalk, ate frits (so good), had a raw herring with onions (not so good),

and of course some delicious fruity beverages at a beachside restaurant and relaxed. I also visited the Peace Palace, the house of the International Court of Justice, which is the UN’s judicial body. Very interesting stuff, the main funding for the Palace’s Library and the Temple came from American Businessman Andrew Carnegie (somewhat reluctantly I think). Anyway, the idea is a good one even if the UN isn’t as authoritative as one would hope.

On Sunday, Ben flew back to NYC, (haha he has to go back to Law School), and so I spent the day wandering around Amsterdam, before I got on the train back to Brussels. Now my main impression of Amsterdam is the one I saw in the movie Eurotrip. I’m not going to even apologize for my inability to separate the real world from a fictional movie. It was a great movie. So my basic impression of Amsterdam was the introduction we saw in the movie, when the main characters check into their hostel and the woman at the desk says, “Hello, and welcome to Amsterdam's finest and most luxurious youth hostel. We feature one medium sized room containing 70 beds which can sleep up to 375 bodies a night. There is no bathroom. Nor is there one nearby. If you do not wish to have your valuables stolen I suggest destroying them or discarding them right now. You can also try hiding your valuables. In your anus. This will deter some but of course not all thieves. Once you are inside, the doors are chained and locked from the outside. They will not be opened again until morning, no matter what. Should a fire occur due to our faulty wiring or, uh, the fireworks factory upstairs you will be incinerated along with the valuables that you have hidden in your anus. Tips are greatly appreciated.”

I however arrived just before six in the morning, and walked through the tiny alleyways before the street cleaning crew arrived. The smell of pot and beer still heavy in the air, and many who had partied a little too hard the night before were still staggering back to their hostel or hotel or were passed out on the street, soon to be woken by the huge street cleaning vehicles that soon swept the streets clean. The city itself is an interesting mix of small narrow alleyways and canals that run south from the Central train station. I am planning on going back to Amsterdam with a friend of mine from work sometime in September, and will try to see the city at night, and hit the nightlife. But it was a great day trip just to get a feel for the city.

Anyway, I’m back at work now (blogging over my lunch break….God I’m cool). I’m meeting up with some friends after work today, which is a good thing as it forces me to leave work before 8 PM, which is when I left yesterday after getting into a fight with the service provider for our newsletter. Good times. And next weekend I’m heading home to Brockenhurst to see my Second Cousin Wiz, her Mom Alex and my Uncle John who are over to visit. So it should be good fun.

The Toilet Paper

For the first week I was here, I'm pretty sure the girl who I share a bathroom and kitchen with was on vacation. Apparently she is at university learning to become a teacher. Because of this, we have only recently come in contact with one another. Now due to the fact that I speak no French and she doesn't speak any English, our experiences with one another have been brief and almost silent except for the occasional greeting or nod of the head.

However, just because you do not speak with someone, it does not mean that you are not affected by them.

When I moved in, one of the first things I did was stock up on the essentials. I bought shampoo, soap, dish washing soap, laundry detergent and of course, toilet paper. Now don't get me wrong, I am not cheapskate, however, when I bought toilet paper I bought regular white two ply paper. It works, it's not too costly and I see no problem with it. Yesterday however, as I was brushing my teeth, I saw in the mirror something a little bit strange. On the toilet paper roll, where my white regular two ply toilet paper hung, was now, yellow quilted four ply paper with hearts on it, and my two ply paper had been taken off of the roll, and put on top of the washing machine.

Seriously.

My flat mate, took my half used roll of toilet paper OFF of the roll, and put her toilet paper (which she felt necessary to buy?) on the roll in its place.

OK.

Now, I was thinking about this while I was brushing my teeth. Does this mean that we are supposed to use different rolls of toilet paper? Should I continue to use my white paper, which was now sitting idly on top of the dirty washing machine? Or should I move up in the world and feel the bliss of four ply between my ...cheeks. I have no idea.

In addition to the toilet paper switch, it seems that none of my "basic supplies" were good enough for my flat mate. She moved my dish washing soap that was barley used at all, under the sink and replaced it with a different brand. She pushed my laundry detergent behind the machine and placed hers on top, sitting proudly next to my pitiful excuse for toilet paper.

It's not that I particularly MIND having these items moved, it's not like she stealing my food or using my towels. It's just really strange. And on top of that, I can't really talk to her about it because she doesn't speak English, so I suppose I will just see where all of my bits and pieces end up in the next six months.

The Fight and The Date

So, I've now been here for over a week. Work has continued to be a bit overwhelming, but the real test comes next week when Okie, the guy who had my job for the past six months, is no longer around to guide me, and I am truly on my own. More to come on that.

However, this has been an interesting few days. Firstly, on Friday, I went to my commune, to get my long term work visa. Now as a British citizen, I can legally work in Brussels, however, if I want to work there for more than two months, I have to get a Belgian ID, to do this you have to go to the headquarters of the commune you live in. The city of Brussels is divided into communes, with Brussels in the center and other ones surrounding it. (Think of like Queens and Manhattan in New York). I asked my landlord which commune I live in and he said Brussels. So, I googled the commune and found out I could get my identity card starting at 830AM.

I got there at 815AM and the line is out the door around the corridor and into the elevator lobby. Seriously. I stood waiting for over three hours. As I got close, I was about three people from the front, this man dressed in a disgusting shade of green steps in front of me. Now, for the past three hours, I have been standing behind a black woman dressed in bright pink with a screaming baby. I KNOW where I was, and after waiting for this long, there was no way in HELL this guy was going to push in front of me. So I simply said, "excusez-moi monsieur, the end of the line is over there". He turned, gave me a look that would freeze a lava field and said, "I do not speak English, you must speak French", and turned back. (He said this in perfect English mind you).

OH HELL NO....

So I replied, (whilst giving him an equally chilling look I hope) "La ligne est là-bas". He ignored me. So I said LOUDER, "escusez-moi, la ligne est là-bas". Then he turned, looked at me, and started SCREAMING in French. I have no idea what he said, but it sounded as though he was saying some not very nice things about me, and then the baby started crying LOUDER and his hands were going all crazy and his papers were flying everywhere...so someone called security and we were both brought into a back room.

Yep, I got hauled away by security. They basically told me that they believed me, but they ask that I don't do anything about the fact that this guy is an asshole line cutter and let it go. Because if they do have to escort him out (it's not like that's there job or anything) it would be SO much paperwork, so could I please shut up and let him go.

Welcome to Belgium.

Regardless, I didn't get to work until about 1:30pm that day.

So after a stressful Friday, today, Saturday, I decided to go out and hit the town. I left around 10:30PM and wandered the wonderful streets near La Gran Place, taking in the scenery, the smells, I got a delicious waffle. It was wonderful. Now, as part of the European experience, if you go out alone at night as a women, guys frequently talk to you, yell at you and/or whistle at you on the street. I usually smile at them or ignore them, but it is harmless. However, during my time in India, I was much more aware that their culture perceived American women as being "loose" women, basically sluts. I blame this on the mass amount of media that comes out of the States showing this, such as but not limited to the latest Britney video or those Dawsons River people jumping into each others beds all the time. Regardless, I am much more weary of attention from strange men when I'm a foreigner because of my experience in India. However, as I was enjoying my waffel in the main square, a guy came up to me, he looked harmless enough, gave me a cute little smile and asked if he could take me out for a drink.

I figured, I'm here, I'm alone, and I can't really afford to buy myself a drink, so why not.

I let him lead me to a bar where we sat on the street and talked. Or tried to. Unfortunately his English is..."how I say, not so good" so he taught me some French sayings and told me I was beautiful like one hundred times.

He then asked if I was hungry. I wasn't, but as I rule I don't turn down free food, so I said OK, and he led the way. He then pointed at a McDonalds, and said, "Food yes?".

Strike one.

I shook my head and made a vomiting motion. I think he understood, that or he thinks I drank too much (which I didn't because he didn't drink anything so I only had half a beer as a caution). He then tried to take me to a falafel stand.

Strike two.

So he finally found a sweet little Asian fusion place on the street where I ordered yummy curry and a diet coke, (he ordered a coke, so I’m so not going to be the lush with a stranger in a foreign country thank you very much).

It was good, and afterwards we wandered. He repeated the few phrases in English he knew such as, “You are so beautiful”, “Your hair is so beautiful” and “I love you”.

Yep, “I love you”.

Now, when someone that you haven’t been dating for a very, very long period of time says I love you, you are automatically put into one of two categories. Neither of them are preferable in my book.

1. ABC Family Channel (with an emphasis on “Seventh Heaven”)
2. Phil’s life

If you fall into option one, it means that he genuinely likes you, wants to marry you and for you to move in with his mother and nine siblings. If you fall into option two, it means he wants to get into your pants and will say anything to get there.

So, after we wandered for like ten minutes, I began to steer us towards the nearest metro station. As we got there, he kept trying to get me to go to his house to “meet his mom”. Because I’m sure his mom is up at midnight and anxious to see the hussy her son brought home. I said no and marched onto my platform, he was going in the other direction but wanted to “make sure I get to train ok”.

He then started to get a little bit too “touchy feely”. After turning my head a few times and hitting his hands away, I finally heard the train coming, as it pulled up to the station, I let him know exactly what I thought of his “fondling” with my knee... in his groin.

Well, at least I got a free dinner.

Blogging fun

So Dan (ahem...) I mean my "friend who shall remain unnamed" started an anon blog today, and it made me miss writing my blog from India and Bhutan. So, I started my own.

Thanks "Friend".

First I'd like to say, thank you Penny. Penny, my sweet if not slightly judgmental cat gave me the strength to leave home. Mainly because she would take up 90% of my bed, and I just really needed a good nights rest by the time I graduated high school, but also because she loved me, and I knew that whenever I would come home, she would be there, ever so slightly miffed at me for leaving, but still full of love. Now however, I will be forced to return to a home without Penny, who was my best friend and my Muffin.

Alas, I am not going home anytime soon anyway, I am cramped in a 4 floor walk up bedroom in downtown Brussels. I applied to a position I was totally unqualified for on a whim, knowing I would never end up perusing it...and here I am, now attempting to pretend like I know what I am doing.

I left on the 6 AM Eurostar from London and arrived in Brussels expecting my landlord who I had never met, and whom I found on a website advertising a room for rent, to pick me up at the train station. In my own defense, I carried an impulse body spray in my purse; a scent so cheap that it actually burns when applied to the skin...think of the damage it could do to other parts of the body. Lucky for me (and maybe for him too) my landlord turned out to be a sweet man with a wife and two young children, who simply had the day off and offered to do me a favor.

I arrived, signed the lease, paid one months rent, walked around the neighborhood with him, went grocery shopping, got a new sim card for my phone, went home and passed out.

Monday morning I began my new job as Communications Manger at Eurodad, the "European Network on Debt & Development". I was literally thrown into the fire of things to do and not enough time to due it. There were deadlines to meet, most of them outrageous and I had to learn where files were on computers and what programs to use for the million different tasks I was expected to accomplish in the day.

Coming home I had blisters on my feet, a pile of reading in my bag, and a weird sense of excitement about what is in store in the coming six months.