Nailbiting

Has this blog become increasingly boring in the past two or three weeks? Perhaps I've posted less or less enthousiastically... but since then I've given up my daily can of Red Bull. Of course, seeing as I have to get out of bed before noon tomorrow, I think tomorrow's will be my first (and second?) since a few weeks.
But still, that's one bad habit more or less under control you might think. So what if I do walk around like a zombie nowadays. Honestly, I can't even tell. I think that even with Red Bull I'm more asleep than awake.
But it's time to conquer my longest... most passionate ... and most persisting bad habit. With my parents attempt to quit smoking being changed to an attempt to "smoke less" I thought I might try quitting... nailbiting.

I've been a fervent nailbiter for as long as I can remember. I know for a fact I already did it when I was 8 because a teacher commented on it. I've never stopped. In fact, I think I've only gotten worse. I've managed to steer clear of those luscious little stubs -my nails- for two days now, but since Melissa's back home now -leaving me all alone with the temptation right at the end of my fingers- I don't know how much longer I can prevail. They're calling me! They're itching, they're begging me to bite off the excess nail!!
Er... but anyway...
Maybe posting about it will help motivate me.. and in a few months I might utter the words I've never had a chance to... "damn I broke my nail".
Oh my life. A series of oral fixations and obsessions if ever there was one. Snort.

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Signs I'm losing my mind

I actually found the Madonna/Britney/Christina performance quite a turn-on....

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Jerry... i got a temping job!

Yep, September the first.
The day I was planning to stay in bed and laugh at everyone leaving for work or school. -For the non-belgians, it's the first day of the new school year then.- No such thing for me this year. Ellen got a call from her temping agency and lo and behold... Piglet got a job! For all of three days! After five years at university I've been deemed fit to do admin work. But don't go dissin' my job, dudes... It'll double the money I have on my saving's account. And that's not because it pays that extremely well. Besides, I can use the blogging-fodder.
And I need to get out more if I start using the word "dude".

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For it is I! the Heroin!

What Is Your Battle Cry?

Lo! Who is that, skulking along the freeway! It is Pigletwildebeest, hands clutching a burning branch! She bellows thunderously: "I'm going to torment you until you taste like chicken!!"

Find out! Enter username: Are you a girl, or a guy ?

created by beatings : powered by monkeys

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driving

Just tested my theoretical driving knowledge here. I made four mistakes... three big ones. So I failed. Problem is that I don't understand their parameters for the left/right difference. Honestly, it's not as simple as "your other right". It's a puzzle.
I had to do something whilst Melissa was watching the horror that is... Daredevil....

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Library

I'm quite neurotic.
My friends and possibly faithful readers of this blog (snort) might have noticed that.
Today, my girlfriend probably did the cruelest thing ever. She dragged me into a book store, knowing full well how broke I am. For a minute I felt unloved. Nah, not really, I know books are one of her obsessions too. She immediately made it up to me by taking me to her library and allowing me to borrow four books on her card. -For one of which ("Broere" by Bart Moeyaert) she threatened a divorce if I'd ever buy it... she won't have to worry, I don't like it.-
I have to buy books because I've got a problem with the library where I live. The problem stems from the 6th year of secondary school. Back then I lent a library book to some friends for a book report. You can guess the rest? The friend of a friend it was lent to, lost it. Since then I've not dared to go in (that's since 1998) for fear of having to pay for the lost book and the overdue fine of the other book I still have in my possession... yes, since 1998. Since they never sent me a reminder and the library has since been computerised, chances are they forgot about them. And about my fine. But still I have this catastrophic fantasy in my head where I try to re-inscribe, they look up my name and say "ah yes, and that'll be 1000 euro in fines for the books you've had for five years".
I've imagined ways of giving the books back, going from putting them in a locker to be found by the staff to confessing to the truth. But every plan I've deemed too risky.
If the library police come looking for me... I'm sorry... please don't throw me in jail!

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hmphr

I think I need to stop applying for jobs for educator. Granted, two thirds of the situations where they've granted me with an interview were for educator .. my applications for psy tend to be overlooked ... But during the interview things usually come up that make me want to scream and run for cover.
And that's not good when it comes to a job, is it?
This job I applied for today included driving kids around (oops, no license yet), cooking for them during the weekend (I can only make a lukewarm pasketti. When Melissa is standing over me) and organising things like a household (household? I'm an only child and a loner!)...
The woman was kind enough, but I know the job isn't mine. And maybe that's for the best. Definitely for the kids.

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Okay!

Mister Ray Cokes is featured in today's Humo! Oh where's the time when I tuned in religiously every night (four days of the week) to watch Mtv's Most Wanted. I loved Rob the Cameraman, Andycam, Naughty Nimpho Nina and of course Man of the People, Friend to the Stars, Ray Cokes Himself. I sometimes still use catchphrases as "it's crap and we love it" and "It's going well isn't it".

Back then, my dream was to work in tv... most importantly, MTV. Even more importantly, behind the scenes at Most Wanted. I remember sending them many embarrassing letters in faulty English (I was only 12), making my TV debut (wink wink) and crying as the last show aired.
And now he's back on Belgian TV. Mister Cokes will be presenting "I love the 90s" for Jim TV. Viva Jim TV I'd say!

photo taken from Mr Cokes' site

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interesting

This joblink page on a website for clinical psychologists in Belgium comes with the music of Madonna's Material World.
A psychologist webmaster with a sense of humour....

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A life?

I have stuff to do!
Can you imagine it... I have things that need to be done. Something to do during the day. Though probably not for very long, but hey! It's something.
- I have to put photos in a photo album
- I have to look for an empty photo album to put them in... after I've dusted it.
- I have to type up and send out the report of yesterday's Colon meeting. Colon, by the way, has nothing to do with bowels, but with the punctuation mark ":". Just so that's clear.
- I have to study for my *shudders* theoretical driving test.
- I have a job interview tomorrow. Only 3/4, and as an educator, but hey... If I get it, I've got money and some experience.
- I have to decide whether or not I'll play badminton tonight. Contra: the headache I'm nursing and the feeling of icky-sweatiness. Pro: the exercise won't kill me. Hmm.

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handball part 2

Went all the way to Antwerp someplace yesterday because the missus (my sweet angel) had to play two matches. Sh be quiet, they lost both. You'd think they'd allow me to shower with the team after the match, out of gratitude for my endless supporter qualities: I sit there, applaud for every goal and groan for every goal for the other team.
But no, no showers for Piglet.
It's unfair I tell you.

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apology
I must apologise for the lack of blogging that's been going on here today. Unfortunately my girlfriend thought the time was right to tell me she actually quite likes Celine Dion's My Heart will go on. And other songs. And Titanic.

I still haven't recovered.

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Pasketti!

I cooked. For the first time in my life. I boiled water. Let Melissa pour spaghetti in it. Then put a fire on, put some herbs in it (from a package, obivously) and stirred the tomato sauce. I stirred.
Yes. I'm a cook.
For some reason I do have "Living doll" by the evil Sir Cliff in my mind. Thankfully it's the Young Ones version.

mission impossible

Read through a job selection-procedure today. About five rounds of testing, complete with role play, IQ tests and leadership tests... All together at least 8 hours, so probably spread over several weeks, selecting people as they go on. I expressed my concern and fear at this (Roleplaying is not my thing.. i can never take it seriously) and I get comments like "well jobs won't come flying at you you know".. I know that. But I don't see myself getting even past round one... so the chances of me getting the job are hugely slim.
But hey, if I do make it to round 956, with the roleplaying. I'll sure as hell do my best. "Hello. What brings you HERE"... "could you help me understand that?" all said with the crooked head and a soft, empathic voice. "No, do stay calm Sir, I'm here to help you. I'm sure the surgeon didn't mean to cut off your left testicle when you went in for your appendicitis".

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under siege

I had a severe attack of self pity today. So I moped about the house, channelhopped, stared at the computer screen and sent sad text messages to my sweetie. After a while I pulled myself together, put on my (ten year old) running shoes and ran a pathetic short way. Damn, I'm out of shape. Just came out of the shower and feel a bit better now.
Though I think I pulled an abdominal muscle. I have abdominal muscles?!

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oh well

"U komt verder niet in aanmerking voor de job van begeleider in ****"
Mijn eerste weigering na een gesprek. Ok, ik heb nog maar twee gesprekken gehad. Maar gezien het eerste al een maand geleden is en een auto cruciaal was voor de job, kan ik die ook wel vergeten. Duurt wel lang hoor, om zo'n briefje op te stellen. Zo'n twee weken.
Verder had ik ook gesolliciteerd voor een job als psycholoog hier dichtbij. Kandidaturen moesten binnen zijn voor 18/08. Ik heb nog niets gehoord. Tja, geen ervaring eh... of gewoon ongeduldig.

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Back to school

Last week I spotted the first. August isn't even halfway yet and already the "back to school" banners are in every shop, from Supermarket to newspaper kiosk. I remember I used to throw a fit when I saw them. As if they want to take away the pleasure you have left in those last two weeks of August by pretending they'll be over in a heartbeat. As if they don't count.
I admit, I gloated a bit in the first years at Uni. After all, I only started in October and only had 18-something hours of lectures. Quite the difference. But now I feel pity for the poor secondary school students.
Yesterday a bus driver said "school will be starting again soon, won't it" to me. To me?! I'm 22 for crying out loud! I should have snubbed "I'll have you know I don't have a summer holiday, I'm unemployed", instead I said "I don't go to school anymore" and ran for the nearest seat.
Obviously he needs to have his eyes checked.... obviously.

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Badminton


Badminton starts again tonight and Ellen is picking me up in a minute. I wonder how things will go on
a) we'll play the best badminton ever and be refreshed and energized tomorrow.
b) we'll make absolute idiots of ourselves and be dead tomorrow
c) regardless of how much we'll play, our asses, legs and arms will hurt tomorrow.
d) we'll never even find the sports centre
e) we'll lose against two 8-year-olds.

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Mine? Mine? Mine? Mine? Mine?


I saw Finding Nemo last night.
Three months before its release in Belgium.
Thanks to a certain bad rude man(tm) and his computer skills...
Don't worry Disney, I'll still go see it in the cinema and I'll probs even buy it on DVD if I'm employed by then.
Cos daaaaaaamn it was good.
Just wanted to tell you all that. And gloat.

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Verraad

Dacht u dat Les Mysteres een hecht team was? Ja? Ik ook. Maar wat blijkt.. mijn twee showbizz collega's, Le Feux en DJ -waarvan 1 trouwens mijn liefje is- posten zich te pletter op het blog van collega Balloo. Dit alles in een genadeloze concurrentiestrijd om zo hoog mogelijk te eindigen in de top tien van Meneer de Beer zijn lawaaimakende vriendjes. Ondertussen laten ze mijn fantastische webstek vol proza en poëzie naast zich liggen.
Honingpot, stop deze waanzin! Leer mij een top tien maken. Mijn jaloezie en gekwetst ego kunnen niet veel meer aan.
Ik volg zelfs al de linkregels van het bloggen. Het is ver gekomen.

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Sir Killalot


phwoaaaar look at that!
Isn't he amazing?
This, ladies and gentlemen, is Sir Killalot, the star of the house robots in Robot Wars (BBC2, Fridays) and my absolute favourite. He weighs in at 500kg, is 1m30 tall and 1m20 wide. But don't you dare call him fat!
You see, though I loathe to admit it, I'm a pretty straightacting girl . But when Robot Wars comes on, there's no denying my sexual orientation. I roar, I scream, I lose myself completely in the carnage (as my great hero Lister puts it).
The concept? People build robots, those robots fight each other, there's house robots for extra damage and inevitably one of the home made robots gets torched, crunched or thrown out of the ring.
I looooooooooooove it.
My sweetie doesn't. Tsk.

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Bekentenis

Ik heb gisteren een stuk Tien om te zien gezien.
Tijdens het zingen van zijn monsterhit "allemaaaaaaaal" zweer ik u dat zeepsmoel Wim zijn mond zo ver opensperde dat ik zijn epiglottis (het kwabbetje dat je luchtpijp beschermt tegen gekauwde voedselbrokken) zag bengelen.

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Shouldn't do that ever again

Remind me that I should sleep at night. I've got bags under my eyes the size of Denmark. And the mood to go with it.
My favourite half-long skirt has become too wide and has fallen under my hipbones. Causing it to cover the scar under my left knee where I cut myself shaving. The new length makes it look like a granny's skirt instead of a hip&trendy one.
Ah well.

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Grrrr

I can't sleep.
Think it's to do with Melissa going to the funeral tomorrow.
Or with hormones. Who knows.
So what to do?
This guy who lives on the other side of the street is a paramedic. He's on call tonight, judging by the big ambulance parked a few metres away from my open window. A few hours ago he left with screeching tyres and since he came back it seems he's forgotten to switch of the radio and/or close the ambulance windows. With a bit of effort I can hear every word of what's going on in the ambulance service and fire dept. There was something about a lack of water a while ago. I hope that wasn't the fire dept... "sorry, no putting out fires tonight, there's not been enough rain".
Apart from morbidly listening in I've printed out an application letter for this job as educator for a month. I won't get it probably... I'm overqualified. But hey. You never know. And I've got to do *something* on this ungodly hour...
*starts counting sheep Count Dracula Style*
One hahahaaaaaa
Two hahahaaaaaa

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Moe
Herman de Coninck

Ik ben moe, ik heb vandaag
je borst tien keer
niet aangeraakt, lieve woorden
niet gezegd, gedacht aan je nagels
in mijn rug die een eeuwigheid achter
mij ligt en waaruit ik vanmorgen
ben opgestaan als uit een bed.

Ik geloof niet dat ik het kan:
niet van je houden. Drinken
en je niet kunnen vergeten,
dat kan ik. En iedere dag een beetje
sterven, zodat het tenslotte slechts
een koud kunstje wordt.

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average

I got my average of two "sorry but no job" letters today. There's nothing much to those letters. The secretary just prints them out after adding your name and address on the top and then signs them (sometimes they get the HRM Manager to sign them... or they pretend). Some places promise to contact you if a job would suddenly appear within 6 months, others go for 3 months (they must think stamps are for free) and one even went for two years. Other places are more honest and don't promise you a single thing.
Some also reply in saying "if we had a job, we'd put it on the VDAB computer" as if to say "you stupid cow, what are you bothering us for". The obligatory last paragraph "we wish you good luck in seeking for a job" is also a classic.
The one thing that did make me laugh was this letter where they included a paragraph saying "they hoped I wasn't too disappointed". Aww... I'm fine, thanks.

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we're going out, and carrying on as normal

A friend of Melissa's died in a car accident last week. We found out on Sunday. She was only 18. 18. Spent all Sunday looking at older people, wondering why they deserved to live when Sarah didn't. Which is not only rude of me, but also pointless. Because death and illness are random. Don't go looking for a "reason" or for a greater good. I think the hardest lesson we have to learn is that everything in this life is random. You live or die, you're healthy or sick at the roll of a dice, don't go looking for 'fairness' or for a reason. There is none.
So now this girl I've never met... only heard lots about and chatted with a few times on msn... now this girl is dead. And I find myself crying. For her girlfriend and her parents and her brother and for MY girlfriend. Because I can see she's in pain, I can see the grief and the anger and the confusion and sadness and I see her trying to grasp the meaning of this news... What is this "dead" business. How is this gonna affect me. And I do the same. And me, miss hotshot "i've got a degree" psychologist... I can't reach her. I'm stuck behind one of Melissa's walls. I don't know what to say or do. What CAN you say or do? Nothing will make it different, nothing will make it better or fair. Nothing.
So maybe it's best to shut up.
And you'd think that there'd be a day of national mourning. Or a big gaping hole in the streets or on TV to remind people that this has happened. But nothing. And you can't begin to grasp why the world gets to carry on as if this hasn't happened.
My next post will probably be all flowers and butterflies and goodie-goodness or little pet hates. Or about how I loved the Spooks finale yesterday and it made me cry for Sarah. Or how brilliant Stephen Fry was in Room 101. I carry on as normal because otherwise I'd drown in grief and anger... so I act as if it were still normal. But it's not anymore.

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Unemployed Vision

Did you see The Bold and the Beautiful the other day? ooooh my god... what's going on! the excitement! And of course Days of our Lives and let's not forget Home and Away. I wish Sunset Beach would come back...
Ok... I've not sunk this low yet. But it's coming... I can feel it coming...

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Observations

1. Poor Mister Baloo. Though we did have a nice night on Friday.
2.KIM IS NUMBER ONE
3. Jesus was on the train with us to Ostend. A woman (we think) got on the train carrying a white cross with "Jesus" painted on it in red letters. I presume the messiah had lost his cross or the woman wanted to use it as a clotheshanger on the beach.
4. Melissa asked me to inform you all of JK Rowling's obsession with the word "nostril". Which I've now done.
5. It's still hot.

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Se7en


Seven times. Seven places on my body driving me mad with itching and glowing and scratching and waking me up at 4am. Causing me to sit with a slipper in one hand, squinting against the big lights, looking for the beast that did this to me. How can one bloody mosquito need so much blood?! And the itch was enough to drive me maaaaaaaad.
I hope I gassed the bastard with my handy plug-in-and-kill-beasties device. Do not mess with me mosquitos...

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Maureen's card

for my graduation (granted, a little late, but hey) read the following:
"I was surfing the net and found the job prospects for this year's university graduates... www.isthatwithfries.com".
I'm an "ologist" after all!

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Care Bear Swimmingpool

My dad just found my old inflatable swimming pool back. So if you'll excuse me, I'll be soaking in that with a book.... been looking on the net for a photo of the pool (because it's rather fabulous), but alas...

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Uitnodiging

Geloof het of niet, maar op een zondag 30 november vindt in het Fakkeltheater in Antwerpen het holebi-songfestival plaats. Ik ben nog niet direct op de hoogte van alle bijzonderheden , maar wat ik wel weet is dat ik deelneem. Jaja, dames en heren, Griet op een podium, samen met haar collega's Melissa en Frederic. Samen brengen we Minn Hinsti Dans van Paul Oscar (Eurosong 97, Ijsland) weer tot leven. Kom onze onvergetelijke performance zien en moedig ons aan voor een ticket richting... euhm... eeuwige roem!

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run girl run says:
It's so ridiculous. The minute a snowflake falls or the temperature goes over 25° it's all over the news and terms like "blizzard" and "scorching heat" are used
Ladies and Gentlemen, Mr Motch Bondouché and his amazing cheese and pickle solo...! says:
it's the same here, we europeans just aren't used to anything other than moderate temperatures and rain
run girl run says:
Old ladies and asthmatics are warned in the news to stay indoors or they'll die instantly, yet in Brazil the old ladies are doing press ups at noon
Ladies and Gentlemen, Mr Motch Bondouché and his amazing cheese and pickle solo...! says:
heh, same here, some old guy died on his bycicle in london
run girl run says:
he didn't?
Ladies and Gentlemen, Mr Motch Bondouché and his amazing cheese and pickle solo...! says:
he did
run girl run says:
how do you die ON a bicycle?
Ladies and Gentlemen, Mr Motch Bondouché and his amazing cheese and pickle solo...! says:
heat stroke, he fell off
run girl run says:
sorry
run girl run says:
I can't help it, but I'm laughing
Ladies and Gentlemen, Mr Motch Bondouché and his amazing cheese and pickle solo...! says:
*chuckles*
run girl run says:
I'm picturing a ray of sunlight hitting him and striking him dead
Ladies and Gentlemen, Mr Motch Bondouché and his amazing cheese and pickle solo...! says:
lol!!!

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Afspraak

Kunnen we afspreken dat we het in dit weer (vrolijk doch heet) niet meer hebben over "onder de wol kruipen", maar eerder over "onder het katoen"?

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Why I hate job interviews

1. Because they confront you with the awful crap you've written in your application letter and your CV. You have to watch them reading it as they prepare themselves to start talking to you.
2. They ask questions like "How do you stand towards authority?". Every single time. Why? Do I have "anarchist" stamped on my forehead or something? (Might be better to hide my "Kill the cops" badge next time... Joke people, joke)
3. They ask why you applied there. The truthful answer "because I applied everywhere, I'm desperate" is not gonna score you a lot of points.
4. They ask how you fit in a team. The fact that it depends what that team itself is like is hard to explain.
5. The car. It always comes down to The Car. Or the Lack Thereof.
6. They present you with situations and ask how you'd reply to them. "If five gangster came into the centre demanding your patient files and the life of your first-born child and in the mean time one of your patients is having a manic episode whilst another is attempting to jump out the window AND the centre is all out of cookies. What would you do?"
"Erm... well... I think the most important thing is to remain calm...".

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I cannae sleep man!

Hel-lo-o?
Anyone out there?
Australia? Kuala-Lumpur? Timbuktu?
No?
It's just I can't sleep. I'm bloody wide awake despite it being nearly 4 am. And I want to sleep dammit. I want to.
Would be nice to have someone to chat with and gently fall asleep...
Not even LittleMoose is up. Thought she was meant to be an insomniac.
Tsk.
No standards these days.

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Harry Smut!Potter

Mac sent me a link to a site with phrases from the last Harry Potter book, taken completely out of context to form more than the canon fodder slashers need. An example?
"I thought not," said Snape, watching him closely. "You let me get in too far. You lost control." (535)
or
"We're not going to use magic," Ron ejaculated loudly. (242)
Much more of this at this site.

For the fans, kiddies, only for the fans.

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Handball

I personally always felt sports was something for the masochists among us. Apart from Badminton, obviously. Now fate has decided that my babe is rather mad about sports, especially her sport: Handball. You know, a group of people throw a ball at each other and dribble a little before they aim for a huge goal. That kind of thing.

Handball season has started again and Appoloon Kortrijk is really going for it. Training four days a week and power training (according to said babe that's fitness to get Serena Williams-type arms) and then another match in the week-end. Fabulous... I already feel like a fat blob!
The regime started last Friday with a little running trip of some 10 kilometres. Ten. And yesterday Madam went to play "beach-handball"... without sunscreen. Result? She needs the aid of two chairs to get out of bed and looks like a lobster.
Times like these I curse the gods for my lack of a digital camera.

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26 things

Watch an impressive collection of 26 photos about 26 things taken in one month by people from all over the world at this website. Be sure to also check out the beauties Mac came up with.

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shock horror!

The pope is AGAINST gay marriage???
NO!! Really?!
How exactly is this news? Now if he were for I'd understand all the fuss being made about it, but now you might as well put a headline as "Crocodiles Are Green!" in the papers. Cos Duh.
And how does this effect us? Hasn't the bugger lost his last shred of credibility by opposing condoms even in HIV-struck Africa? How many believing Catholics don't use contraceptives because the pope says so? Last I checked there weren't that many families consisting of 7 or more kids. Sure, there'll be a few, but they've become the exception to the rule. So honestly sweeties, I'm not crying over an old man saying I'm "unethical" and a "danger to society". Even if he is met by thousands of people waving flags at him wherever he goes.
After all, so is David Beckham.

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Back in the land of the living

Bet you didn't even notice I was gone did you?
I was held hostage yesterday by my typical 24-hour illness, complete with high fever and feeling like a wrung out cloth (een uitgewrongen dweil in Flemish). Usually only happens when I've been under a lot of stress, e.g. after exams, didn't know going to Ostend could be stressful?
At least I can sit up again for the moment.

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