the unthinkable

Cecil dit the unthinkable. The unforgivable. The big faux pas.
He sent me a New Year's card.
Fair enough.
But he included the sentence "ooh, and a happy birthday as well" on there.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!!
Cecil, sweetie! That makes Piglet's blood boil. Piglet demands a different card for her birthday. She doesn't include "happy birthday" on yours or Baloo's or Merlina's either, does she...
*snifs*
told you I was premenstrual! But did you listen? No... You'll have to pay boy!

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DANGER! DANGER!
Pre-menstrual Piglet...

I'm oversensitive, very sad - bordering on weepy, down (woken up by a rejection phonecall this morning), nervous, agitated, touchy, pissed off, my sense of humour has gone out the window, hysterical, feeling sorry for myself, tired and generally... not in the best of moods.
I feel like sleeping till it's 2004... don't want to go through all the "hassle" of celebrating.

Sight.

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zucht

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nightlight

The Girlfriend and I had an argument last night.
You see, when we go to sleep we drag the mattress from my bed on the floor and add another mattress (from the spare room) next to it so we have a kind of double bed. It gives us a chance to snuggle, but also room to sleep without being pushed out of the bed, having your duvet stolen or getting kicked in the shins during a dream.
Whilst Miss Merlina can sleep about anywhere anytime, I need my little rituals: some reading, some tv, some drugs... before I can fall asleep. And yesterday I wanted to read some more whilst Merlina wanted darkness. Yes, it was 2am, but I couldn't sleep.
There was lots of sighing, threats, turning around and angry glares from the left side of the bed whilst I willed myself to get tired so I could turn off the light.
Eventually I went to read downstairs.
Till about 3.20am.

I don't know if she's forgiven me yet.

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musings

A new trend in the art of applicant rejection: phone them up at 9am (when they're obviously still sleeping, tsk! Not as if we have a job!) and ask them to phone you back. They do so, thinking "is this it?" and then you tell them they didn't get the job. They were a very very strong applicant (aren't I always?) but you chose someone with more... experience.
Well goodie for them.

And you wonder why, what you do it for. Because, let's face it, a psych job isn't exactly high up there in the list of "most enjoyable professions according to objective standards"...
- You'll be earning less than you would if you worked in another sector with your degree.
- You constantly have to question yourself, your motives, your actions, your behaviour and carefully choose your words. There's no escaping from yourself.
- The people you work for are generally not grateful for your efforts and often look down on you.
- If you get it wrong, you can bet your ass you'll be hearing about it for years after.
- You hear horrible stories and deal with people who've done horrible things.
- You deal with contempt, boredom, cynicism, hysteria, unpleasant sexual remarks, abuse and aggression on a daily basis.
- People will kill themselves and others will blame *you* for it. You might blame you for it.

So why do I want a job like this?? Why did I study five years for this? Why do other people keep applying for these kinds of jobs, just like me, in desperation?
Because it's a calling...
No sane person would want a job like this, but we do.

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Lego Troll (not harry)

Baloo and Atari gave me the harry potter -troll in the dungeons Lego set for Christmas!
Thank you gentlemen!! That should keep me busy till I get a job!
And no, idiot Gryffindors, the troll is NOT professor Snape, they couldn't find him ... undoubtedly sold out. Of course.
Madscot, it's not Dumbledore either. It's the blue troll variety.

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The Horror!!

Someone came on my blog through google, looking for... "tim henman slash"... Henman... the skeletor of Tennis... the scrawny chicken with the pulled up socks...
Who wants to read slash stories about that (for the heathens: stories wherein Skeletor here sleeps with other men)? If anyone has this unnatural urge of wanting to read about Henman nekkid, please do enlighten me...

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new year's eve

I have a love/hate relationship with New Year's Eve.
Love because it means party, being with friends and generally enjoying the fact that the day after tomorrow is my birthday. (hint)
Hate because it's one of those nights when you "have to" go out and have fun. You can't just stay home and watch tv, you have to go somewhere, be with someone and have the whole thing sussed out. But something invariably goes wrong every single year. No matter how much ahead you plan that "one special night". Even if you'd start planning in August, something would go wrong. Someone gets ill, someone can't make it, another person suddenly has family obligations blablabla.
No different this year.
So, once again, we have no clue what we'll be doing.
Unfortunately.

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Boxing Day

The girlfriend is watching Mulan over on BBC 2 and wants to watch -holding my breath- The bloody HorseWhisperer tonight. I'm currently thinking of ways to get that idea out of her head.
I shall have to revert to my slytherin side and fight dirty!

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the divine comedy - perfect lovesong

Give me your love
And I'll give you the perfect lovesong
Give me your word
That you'll be true to me always come what may
Forever and a day
No matter what other people may say
We'll hold on to each other
'Til we're old and grey

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presents

Piglet got lovely presents...
I always enjoy not opening presents straightaway. My friends from overseas tend to post things to me, so there's usually a parcel at the foot of my bed for about a week before I can open it. Sometimes longer if it contains a seperate birthday present. I enjoy taking the wrapped present out from time to time, having a feel, wondering what's inside... then putting it back. Sometimes I feel that waiting to open them is the best part of getting presents. Afterwards, you're left with lovely things, sure. But no more wondering. Your expectations are gone, you know what you got. And happy as you are with them, the thrill of the guess is gone.
But there's still some stuff left behind my bed for my birthday. 8 more days of wondering what's in those!

Today, I'm proud to avoid all family gatherings. No more drama in my life thank you.

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alles voor het blog



Eet u niet te pletter
Zuip u niet vol
onthou de werkelijke betekenis van Kerstmis...: Cadeautjes!!

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Menen, 23/12/03


Beste,

Horende bij de twee geselecteerden van de tweede ronde van de sollicitatiegesprekken, werd U uiteindelijk niet weerhouden voor de openstaande betrekking.
Onnodig te stellen dat het om vrij persoonlijke beslissingen gaat en dat dit geenszins afbreuk doet aan uw kwaliteiten.

U een gepaste job toewensend, groeten wij U

Met onze kerstwensen

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dear Santa

Now THIS is what I call a teddybear... If I lived in England (home of the shops that sell this teddy) I'd know what to get some of my friends for Christmas...
Perhaps a new friend for Kabouter?

with thanks to Littlemoose, the pervert who actually went into the shop this weekend.

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solstice

Melissa's in the shower so finally I have a bit of time at the computer. (only kidding love)
Today, my sweets, is -according to one of my winnie the pooh calendars- winter solstice. Indeed, the sun has reached its lowest point and will now start its ascent to grace us with longer days.
Something that's usually celebrated at Christmas by me. And usually only by me. People tend to get that look in their eyes saying "there she goes again with her "longer days" nonsense". So I thought I'd only spread the "nonsense" about on the actual day this year and not so much bother people with it on Christmas.
So here we go... solstice blablabla... longer days blablabla... darkest hour just before dawn (mamas & the papas) blablabla... hope blablabla... Light... blablabla... Happy solstice!!

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may god help us all

the girlfriend is watching Dennis the Menace...

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munching

I'm a bit of a "smoefelaar" (le feux calls it)... I can often be seen with a chocolate bar, biscuit, waffle or something else unhealthy in my mouth. No matter where, on the bus, train, in front of the telly... above my computer keyboard...
This has some disantvantages: my keyboard is inundated in crumbs (I'm surprised it still works) and the mouse has to be cleaned out from time to time because it starts going crap on me. As it does now. I have to cirkle around a link five times before I land on top of it...
But I'm still eating damn it...

Trying very hard not to stress about the job ...

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final destination round

As Le feux so nicely put it.
It's between me and a sweet-looking girl now (bitch! bitch! ;) ).
Shrink kept looking at me like I was one of his patients... "tell me all you'd like to say.. it's an open question"... Well goodie for me!
Strangely enough he didn't ask after Dr S*** ...
So I've got no clue. Whatsoever.
Off to Ypres on Monday, for another interview.
Tired now.

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de tuin der onschuldigen

"Ik ben de enige die echt van haar houdt. Denk ik.
Zeg ik nooit. Hoe zou ik meer van haar kunnen houden dan mama die haar heeft gebaard, dan Judith die haar altijd heeft beschermd?
Ik hou zoveel van haar dat ik haar niet wil beschermen.
Ik was nergens bang voor omdat zij zo angstig was. Ik durfde alles omdat zij niets durfde. Ik was groot en sterk omdat zij zo klein was. Ik wou haar tonen dat je niet bang hoefde te zijn, dat er niets kon gebeuren waar je bang voor hoefde te zijn."

En zo, dames en heren, observeert Kristien Hemmerechts accuraat en correct complementariteit in een gezin. En daar heeft zij geen vijf jaar voor moeten studeren. Ik ben jaloers.

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driving

route: Izegem-Roeselare-Meulebeke
interesting sights: strange people, fields, dung, farms
incidents: one. Going wrong way in a one-way street (no lyric intended), backing out again and nearly running over a young woman + doggie.
engine shut downs: two
road rage incidents: only the occasional "you idiot, can't you see I'm just learning"
car behaviour: rather well behaved. Apart from protesting at his/her gears being switched too soon/too late and making the odd noise now and again.
panic: a little during one way street incident and during "bloody hell, am I ever gonna cross this road with the sun in my eyes"-moments.

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caution

Do all shrinks in the western hemisphere know each other?
Snippets from various job interviews over the past months:
"you did your internship there... hm is that with Dr S***?"
"aaah, St *** hospital. What did you think of Dr S***?
"Oh, Dr S***? Yes yes..."
Job interview today was strange. Lots of strange questions, but none about me as a psychologist.
- Do I think it's ok if a psychiatrist decides who works on the ward? erm... I dunno... none of my business.
- Would I be able to work if a psychiatrist tells me what to do on a daily basis? Who does he think I am, his personal slave? Erm... well, erm... mutual respect... blablabla... respect for authority *snort* blablabla
- Do I think psychiatrists and psychologists should be on the same level? erm... what's the right answer here... erm... no...
After the interview with two general directors I was lead to the office of... the shrink! Who asked me more or less the same questions as the ones I was asked by the directors: see above.
Me thinks he likes his authority.
A lot.
I think alarm bells went off when he saw my nose piercing and my tendency to talk on (he only allowed something like one sentence for an answer, then went on the next question... I don't think he even listened to whàt I answered, as long as he got to ask his questions)... Alarm bells ringing "CAUTION CAUTION! Might have own opinion! Might speak her mind!"
I don't think I perfected the art of sucking up enough to get the job. But you never know.

Got called back for final round in Mjènde (yesterday's interview). Tomorrow. 1.20 pm.
Will be with shrink ("do you know Dr S***?") who I've probably seen before on another interview. I thought he was a right bastard. I was dead nervous. May the calmth be with me tomorrow.
And may the bastard who might steal this job this late in the stage get warts!!

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better late than never


What Finding Nemo Character are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

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Mjènde

Ik was in broeno's thuishaven vanmorgen. Twee minuten nadat de bus uit Roeselare vertrekt waan je je in een andere wereld, einde der beschaving nabij... rondom je enkel nog velden. Misschien moet ik opletten wat ik zeg, anders wil het liefje er nog gaan wonen. De schat heeft een afwijking: ze denkt dat een leven op "de boerenbuiten" aangenaam zou zijn. Ik denk dan vooral aan kortzichtigheid, de geur van mest en die idioot nauwe landweggetjes waar je aan 70/u doorheen mag scheuren. Help.
De tocht Roeselare-Mjènde bracht ons doorheen onder andere Dadizele en Moorslede. Thuishaven van mijn allereerste vriendje. Ja, beste lezers, Piglet heeft een beschamend hetero verleden... ter verdediging wil ik nog even inroepen dat ik toen slechts 14 was... . We kwamen voorbij het Moorsleedse rusthuis, dat -grof genoeg- net naast het kerkhof gelegen is. Kwestie van de mensjes een vooruitblik op de toekomst te schenken.
Ooh memories, memories.
Met de rest van de rit vergeleken leek Menen bijna een echte stad!

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interviews yesterday and today went ok I think.
Which is not that much fun.
When they go badly you pretty much know there's no hope.
Now I hope.
And that might not be very handy if someone else steals the job. (bastards! bastards!)

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Bus drivers

What do you think DeLijn looks for in a bus driver? What causes them to give some people a job and others not? Is there even a selection or do they hire everyone that can drive?
I think it's a combination of a strange sense of humour (giving back 10 euro change in 10 1-euro coins, then saying "you'll spend them sooner now they're in coins), the original driving style (pull up right behind cyclists, then honk and roar that engine till they get out of your way), the homicidal tendencies (nearly murdering a postman on his bike) and the bad judge of age (asking "how was school, exam go ok?" when I got back from the job interview).
They're a unique brand, our bus drivers. Some of them sweethearts, others down right dangerous and still others plain freaky... like the one who asked Melissa and I if we were sisters, after he'd seen us kissing...

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in de gloria?

Murat Kaplan, vermaarde gangster van weleer, schrik van de Bende van Haemers, is betrapt op het stelen van CDs in de supermarkt....
In geen tijden nog zo hard gelachen.

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you want a piece of me honey? Get in line!

I'm immensely popular.
Got a job interview tomorrow, the day after and the day after that.
Went to JAC today (youth advice center) to give them some information about dubbelpunt. Thank god DJ MeL I Sa was there, I went back into job application-mode: a quiet little mouse squeaking answers from time to time but not volunteering information.
Sigh.
I think I might need a miracle for tomorrow and the other interviews!

Good thing I decided I didn't want a job anymore. ;-)

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the day's headlines

- Den Dike won big brother (yes yes, it's finally over!)
- My father and Le Feux and Pet are a year older today. Is it a coincidence that I know three people born on the same day, though in several different years?
- My stomache and back hurt like hell all day
- I had a chocolate overdose
- Oh... and they caught some saddam guy somewhere, judging from the facial hair, he was probably dressed in a red costume, pulling reindeer along and urging kids to sit on his lap. The dirty bastard!
Thank you and good night!

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wishlist

The Girlfriend is studying. Or something like that. She stares at pages and turns them from time to time.
To help her do this she's holding a brightly coloured pink pen and rocks to the music on the radio that has to be a certain volume (not too quiet, not too loud). She made a wishlist for Christmas (the feast she despises above all others) just now.
No pressure at all.
She knows I've not got any money, so no pressure.
What does she want?
- Money money money.
- A digital camera (hmz)
- cuddles
- Elmo stuff (specifying who I should ask for help to get her this, Alcor is the victim)
- Books (even specifying titles)
- Dido's latest CD
- an earring
- a necklace (!) (I thought she was tough and butch?) (edit: just so you don't start thinking she's after my money, she knows I can't give her most of what's on that list. It was all meant in good fun. Right sweetie?)

Sigh. I suppose it limits my options of course.
I made a list of my own, including too expensive Buffy DVDs, Pet Shop Boys latest CD, kisses, Stephen Fry books that I don't have already, sexy boots, a car, a wedding ring and some other stuff...
She immediately crossed out the "wedding ring", saying I'm not getting that.
*sniffles*
D'you reckon this means I'm getting a car??
No...
didn't think so either...

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Happy Birthday!


to our very own Mister Queer Duck himself: Le Feux De Perrie!!
Congratulations!!

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1987

I'm a bit of a pushover.
So when the girlfriend demands cartoon character sheets to sleep in, I go and look in the linnen closet. And I found my set of Mickey Mouse-60th anniversary sheets. According to the little, washed out label, they're from 1987.
We do quite long with our sheets overhere.

In other news: mijn In De Gloria DVD zijn gearriveerd!! Merry Christmas to me!

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Piglet is not having the best of days.
She went to the hairdressers and emerged with a sparkling new 'do. A total metamorphosis: one or two centimetres off her hair. The difference is striking! *not*
Please, whatever you do, do not watch Miss Belgium tonight and if you do please don't vote for miss "I'm so intelligent psychologist my father has power". She's horrid for my self esteem and will cause me to throw bricks at my tv. Not very handy when you can't afford a new one.
She was too scared to drive.
She's tired.
Her girlfriend is telling her she's old.

But she also got a fabulous home made christmas card from Béné, picturing a certain Mr Potter and Professor Snape under the mistletoe... Thanks Béné!
The day can only get better!

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Heart

Every time I see you
no matter what we do
there's a strange reaction
Can you feel it too?

My heart starts missing a beat
My heart starts missing a beat
every time

extra points to those who recognised Serena (Sir Ian McKellen... Gandalf!) as Dracula.

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job interviews

Piglet has two interviews lined up next week: Wednesday and Thursday.
Watch her fuck up...
Seriously though, any tips, hints, nipples, suggestions, naked photos, roleplaying games, toys, herbal remedies, drugs, drinks, haircuts, outfits or amulets that might help Piglet become a Capitalist Swine and nail one of those jobs are welcome!!

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little britain

"British Justice is the best in the world. Anyone who disagrees is either a gay, a woman or a mental"


Monday I discovered a great comedy, from the makers of Rock Profile (if no one saw, two blokes pretended to be popstars such as Geri Halliwell, Elton John-and-his-partner-David-Furnish and George Michael and were interviewed by Jamie Theakston): Little Britain. In the picture you can see their creation "Vicky Pollard". An English lass if ever there was an English lass. A clip of her in full action can be found here.

Now I don't just watch this show because the makers, David Walliams and Matt Lucas (also known as George Dawes, the drumming baby with the scores, on Shooting Stars) are Pet Shop Boys fans (yes, they are). It's just utterly hilarious. See David Walliams chat up Anthony Stewart Head (Giles from Buffy) as Prime Minister ("the voters would like to see you wrestle a man"), meet Daffyd, set on being the "only" gay man in a Welsh Mining Village ("The music master is not gay, he may share a cottage with the English master, but they're just friends!") and meet Lou and Andy. Lou, as a caring helper of Andy (in a wheelchair) doesn't want to deny his friend anything. Not even when he wants to go to a restaurant in his Smurf outfit.


A more complete list of characters on the official BBC3 site and on this fansite (which also has complete episode guides).
Mondays, 11pm, BBC2.

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Namen voor eurosong bekend!

Normaal gezien hadden Les Mysteres bovenaan de lijst moeten staan, maar -helaas- we deden niet mee. Wie wel mee doet... Hou je hoed maar vast Bart Vandamme.

Twee van de meest beruchte deelnames gaan voor de tweede zit: Nicole & Hugo (ofte Baloo & Atari?) en ... Barbara Dex! Het mens kan zingen, maar zie je haar (of Nicole en Hugo) al een sertab-buikdansje doen? Nee... maar, zal best wel fun zijn voor de voorrondes!

Verder een hele horde onbekend talent (waaronder Amaryllis, die indertijd meedeed met de Bart Peeters talentenjacht, maar nu helaas een nummer brengt met als titel "god in alle eenvoud"... mag ik even overgeven?), een bende Idolen (Natalia, Chris -ik ben zo cool dat ik een tweede letter moet hebben-D-lul-Morton en Astrid -die mijn bloed sneller deed stromen tijdens haar Idool voorronde-) en "gevestigde eurosongwaarden" als Peter Elkins, Raf van Brussel en Rafael(le)-"origineel eh, in verschillende talen zingen".
Ook doen een paar "alternatieve" "gevestigde waarden" mee, waarvoor ik bij voorbaat al mijn hart vasthoud: de randdebielen van Spring (ex-muppets), Sandy (ex-touch of joy), Biba Binoche (ex-betty) en Harry Gagger (ex-kin).

Het zijn er 28 in het totaal, verspreid over vier voorrondes. De volledige lijst vind je hier.
Wie is er niet bij? Jimmy"Shine on - get ready!- Ik ben hetero! echt waar!" Samyn, petra en een heel leuke meneer die we hebben leren kennen op het holebisongfestival. Jammer voor die laatste.

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It's NOT porn dammit!

Quite a few amateur writers start out on the internet. And if their stories are gay themed I might be reading them. -My girlfriend invariably calls it porn since I made the mistake of reading out some of the worst ever Nifty snippets genre "yeah dude, fuck me harder" to her-
Some of them go from amateur writers to professional and release their books in print. One of them is Keith Morrisette, whose two latest stories I've been reading today and yesterday, hardly being able to put them down. Maybe as a teaser (and I sure hope I don't have a lawsuit now), a tiny snippet:

"Hey - Charlie doesn't do drag anymore, you know that."
Janet's eyes narrowed and her mouth curled at the edges: "don't you believe that, kid. He's sixty pounds overweight, wears flannel shirts and jeans - he's still cross-dressing, as far as I'm concerned. The only difference is he's pretending to be a lesbian now."

From little secrets, little lies, by Keith Morrisette.
I'm sorry, it made me laugh.

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ssshh

Doctor is downstairs, checking out my mum. She's caught some of the germs flying around the house since my dad, Melissa and I were ill last week. [sarcasm] Of course she has to go one better than us and phone the doctor. I think we're going for the yearly bronchitis. *fingers crossed* [/sarcasm]
I've brought the vacuum cleaner upstairs and fully intend to use it. Dose of painkillers is a lot less than yesterday. Go me!

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To do list: state of affairs

- buy stuff to make christmas presents.
- inform people you won't be able to buy them decent presents because you're broke so they'll have to make do with something pathetic but no less sincere
- get drugged up on painkillers and chocolate
- contemplate going back on the pill
- arrange school workshop for Dubbelpunt
- wrap le feux' birthday present
- update Les Mysteres
- vacuum upstairs
- look for job on vdab site
- read
- write out notes from dubbelpunt meeting
- try to win a pet shop boys sweater on radio donna and fail
- cheer on studying girlfriend ("go sweetie, it's your birthday, we're gonna study like it's your birthday!")
- more chocolate
-arrange to have a haircut
- even more chocolate

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Confessions of a dangerous mind

Gezien ik in mijn hoedanigheid als werkzoekende niet gebonden ben aan het beroepsgeheim. En gezien ik in mijn hoedanigheid als psychologe ook iets als een meldingsplicht heb van misdaden, het volgende fragment.

SJOOOOOKOOOOLAAAAAAAAAADE says:
hoe is het nog met meneer kabouter?
Atari || Titratie hier, titratie daar. Titraties, olé! http://swiss.peepshow.reallyrules.com says:
dead
Atari || Titratie hier, titratie daar. Titraties, olé!
killed it
SJOOOOOKOOOOLAAAAAAAAAADE says:
nee...
Atari || Titratie hier, titratie daar. Titraties, olé!
zijn ingewandjes dienen nu als lampekap
Atari || Titratie hier, titratie daar. Titraties, olé!
'k heb hem gecrucifiiiiiiiiiiiiied
los geïnspireerd op Army Of Lovers
Atari || Titratie hier, titratie daar. Titraties, olé!
moehahah

Kan hullabaloo bereikt worden voor een reactie?

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Diary of AssertiveJobSeeker!Piglet

I've been phoning around for jobs today. It's part of my "be assertive! get a job!" plan. (as explained to me by bruno and tjuppe). It went as follows.
- prospective job 1: Was in a team meeting till 3.30.
- prospective job 2: Erm.. they must've put the phone through to mine, but I'm not the man in charge, I'm on a housecall at the moment so erm... it's for the pregnancy replacement right? erm... yeah... well, I don't know that much about it. I don't think you'd be overqualified ... I don't think they have a limit. But erm... if you call again in half an hour he might be in. The bloke was very sweet though.
- prospective job 3: Send us an email. (no explanation about the job, no questions, no noting down of name, nothing).
- back to prospective job 2, half an hour later: No. No he's not in. Well... you can do no harm in just applying and writing a letter can you (well, then why does everyone say I have to phone!? That's what I thought too sweet lady. I'm just following this new plan) but we can send you a job description, would you like that? (I'm gonna apply no matter what, but I'm not allowed to let it show according to my guides. "let them think you're doing THEM a favour by applying there, not the other way round"...) Yeah, you can send me a description.
- Prospective job 1: I don't know if he's in i'll check... hm... What? Masters? No; only bachelors need apply. It's obligatory due to that and that fund that's allowing the extra place. Sorry.
So.. all in all... what a bloody waste of phone time.
I mean, this one woman even said "why don't you just send a letter?". "Because I'm meant to show you how interested and enthousiastic I am about this job by phoning you up, woman! Tsk! Don't you get the tactic?!"
Sent two other applications off that didn't include a phone number (thank god for email! anonymity!). One is for "accompanying the British elderly as they come to Belgian hospitals for health care". If ever I was made for a job! And it comes with a company car and all... ooh-er!

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de Sint

De Sint is niet gekomen.
Heeft ie de schoorsteen niet gevonden? Is hij komen vast te zitten in de fake gas-haard en moest hij er daarna uitgetrokken worden door drie Pieten? Misschien heeft ie zich van huis vergist nu onze buren een dochtertje van zes maanden hebben? Dacht ie "goh, die piglet is klein geworden sinds vorig jaar". Ja, een oude man kan zich al es vergissen.
Volgens mijn pa ben ik gewoon niet braaf genoeg geweest dit jaar.
Mijn ma zegt dat het komt omdat er geen geld is. Alsof de Sint niet ook naar de arme kindjes gaat.
En ik geloof helemaal niet in de kerstman... dus moet ik het een jaar lang zonder chocolade stellen.
Het leven kan wreed zijn.

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waarom

ga ik geen rekken vullen in de miblo?
Omdat er volgens Paul D'hoore meer werk is in de bouw en ik dus beter een opleiding tot metser volg.
Of zoals hij zelf zei "wie zoekt die vindt, alleen niet altijd in de richting waar men zocht." Ik zoek alvast aanbiedingen voor elektriciens.

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Green chicago toesocks

I'm wearing toesocks. *giggle* They're very warm.
Melissa's in the shower, so this is the only possible moment I have at the computer. That woman, she's an addict... tsk!
I took her quiz and only scored 70 ... oh dear. Still, it's nice not to know everything about your partner isn't it. Keeps the relationship fresh and stuff like that... *ahem* Besides, it's not my fault she changes favourite films about as quickly as she changes underwear.
Went shopping yesterday. Trying to find a birthday and Christmas present. We were cornered by enthousiastic Groen! (green political party) people... one of them my old Dutch teacher. Melissa told them what they wanted to hear (about employment) whilst I just stuttered on about "erm.. investments?". Very smooth.
I got my present for our anniversary... (a bit late, but hey)... CHICAGO!!! I love the music. I can't help myself, I'm a musicals slut. Melissa hates it before even having seen it, though that might be because I sang "All that Jazz" off key to her for months...

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Idiot!Piglet

I've downloaded adobe photoshop, the free trial version.
So far, so good.
But I cannot figure out how to work with it.
Do you reckon your IQ lowers the longer you're unemployed....?

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road rage

if I could glue a hundred blue Ls on my (parents') car I would.
Since other cars driving in front of me can't see I'm only a student driver, they have no manners whatsoever. Pedestrians cross the road right in front of me (no, not on a zebra crossing), cars sneak in front of me on a roundabout (so what if I'm taking it in first gear, I'm learning) and the right of way doesn't count half the times.
I'll kill them all...
So I've decided to ask for a gigantic L for Christmas, that I'll screw on top of the car... so there's no mistaking it: drive carefully around me!

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communication

My mum is off to a memorial service for a friend of hers who died this weekend. This woman tried to kill herself three times in the past ten years, was in and out of psychiatric hospitals. Now she was doing a little bit better, living at home again, she has a heart attack, bangs her head on something falling down and suffers a brain hemorrhage because of that.
Goes to show that life is the master or mistress of cynicism.

Because my mum's not here my dad had to cook his own meal this afternoon. He made some pasta from one of these Knorr-add water and voila: food-things. Now my father's not a man of many words. So when he left the dishes standing there in favour of watching Blokken, it was up to me to interpret the meaning of that.
Does he:
a) not mean anything by it, he's just lazy.
b) forget that my mum is off to the cremation of one of her oldest friends and think she won't mind doing the dishes as she gets back.
c) expect me to do them because he's only got an hour lunch break whilst I have all day to myself.
These are things you have to wonder about when you don't say anything.
Oh, and yes I did do the dishes. I think, or I hope, he meant option C.

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The Scarf Brigade

They appeared during the last years at university. Suddenly these kind of checkered scarfs (lighter than on the photo) became in fashion with the "mature" female students of my year. The ones who wore the scarves -indoors- invariably wore their hair up (not in a ponytail or loose, the horror!), had a kind of leather satchel/handbag, went to manicures and sunbeds and rented studios or flats instead of cheap scumbag rooms. They dressed like they were 23 going on 40. Oh so mature they were.
I felt like such a slob next to them. They looked like they had lots going for them: plenty of money, a "good" background judging by their language and mannerisms and had probably never met someone with psychological problems. Probably thought they were "sick" because they didn't understand the intricacies of Lacan and Freud like "us" "intellectuals".
But I thought there's no need to feel dwarfed by them. You're no less than them. Sure, you dress cheaply, you have weird passions (eurovision?), you're queer, you enjoy pondering the meaning of life and you're quite neurotic, but that doesn't mean you're a worse psychologist. Quite the opposite I thought. And I went on my merry way.
But now it's December. And I noticed one of the scarf brigade has a decent job (le feux de perrie occiasionally sees her), a male member of the scarf brigade (no scarf as such, just an arrogant rich twit) managed a job where you did your internship and is now going for his doctorate, and another member you just saw in Miss Belgium "behind the scenes" where she boasted about her intelligence, how she'll be going for her doctorate and that her "father is very powerful". So they seem to be doing ok, don't they, the scarf brigade. But I'm still unemployed despite about 10 interviews.
A friend of mine got called back to a three-round interview procedure. She's through to round three. I didn't make it past round one. We have more or less the same experience, so it can't be that. So where do I go wrong in interviews. Is it the nose piercing? Is it insecurity/arrogance? What the fuck is wrong with me??

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Aspe deel 2

"Voorzover ik weet is iemand (dood)wensen geen strafbaar feit" zei ze. "Dat doet iedere vrouw die zich in de steek gelaten voelt."
Versavel raakte een beetje in verlegenheid door die laatste opmerking. Hij wist nu eenmaal niet veel af van de vrouwelijke psyche.

Ja. Want een man die zich in de steekgelaten voelt zou waarschijnlijk heeeeel anders reageren.
Djiezes.

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My very own girlfriend now also has my cold. Serves her right for not showing any sympathy for me yesterday! She demanded a day off from her internship in order to slob around in bed all day, occasionally uttering things like "Cold" or "Want food". Charming.
Apart from that, she now also has a blog, as you well know and hogs my computer all the time.
What am I gonna do...

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Que?

Als een lul als Danny Smegma (Smagghe), zelf homo, zich publiekelijk verzet tegen adoptierechten voor homo's en lesbo's of erger nog, vindt dat allochtonen de toegang moet worden geweerd (op basis van huidskleur) tot openbare zwembaden, spijker hem dan in een latexpakje aan het grootst mogelijke kruis".
Een uitspraak van Tom Lanoye in een interview met Uitkomst (een homoboekske dat niemand leest, behalve Smagghe dan), waarvoor Lanoye nu een proces wegens laster aan zijn broek heeft. Laster? Maar de waarheid mag toch gezegd worden. En iedereen heeft toch recht op zijn eigen mening.
Maar Danny Smagghe in latex... ok, dat zou ik nu ook nie doen. Zou geen zicht zijn.

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Blogsoap

Uren Dagen Nichten 16 staat online

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speed

Some possible employers are faster than others.
I just sent an email applying for a job I thought I was rather qualified for and had a shot at. No ten minutes later I get an email back "this job has just been taken by someone".
Brilliant.
It'd only been online 5 days.

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we're the pet shop boys

My blog seems to be down at the moment. Blogger obviously can't handle the hordes of extatic eurovision fans looking us up. Ah well. :-)

The Pet Shop Boys have sung the ultimate slash song. There's no need to write fanfiction anymore when the "idols" sing it themselves. They've covered a song by My Robot Friend (Littlemoose thinks it's an alias for themselves) called "We're the Pet Shop Boys" where a gay couple call themselves the Pet Shop Boys... oooookaaay.....
I close my eyes and see you
better than before
then I feel you touch me
and it's 1984
I know what you will say
before you start
in my heart
We're the Pet Shop Boys
We're the Pet Shop Boys
Hm.
This is all not good for the bunnies in my head that are being attacked by a cold virus.

Because, yes dear fans, the last act of sabotage from our eurovision competitors was to infect us with their germs. Le Feux de Perrie's got a fever, I've got the cold from hell and I've no idea how DJ Mel I Sa is, but I'll bet she'll be getting the same symptoms soon. Poor us!

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Eurovision part 356

Photos, a review and a lot of news about your idols Les Mysteres on the site!
Don't miss it...

And look at the shamelessly short skirt! It's an absolute disgrace!!

To be on topic with World Aids Day, all the proceeds of the two shows went to Aids organisations. Two shows with each 350 spectators buying tickets at 15 euro, that's something I hope...

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BRONZE!

A full update of eurovision will happen on Les Mysteres soon, but I need to wake up a little first. Yesterday was very, very intense. We got third place after a very exciting final!

Something we were hoping for, but didn't expect since we were the only group without a large fanbase in the audience, one of the only ones without a drag queen (or two, or three... I tell you, if I ever see fake boobs again it'll be too early!) and without a winning or well known song. Three things that seem crucial when you want to win by public vote.
The jury in the afternoon show only gave us 7th place, which isn't bad in se but we were a bit disappointed that other acts, that had hardly come to rehearsals and that seemed to act only on the merit of costumes, fake boobs and glitter, had a better result than us. Not everyone has the money or the energy to buy expensive glitteroutfits and hog the mirrors in the make up room for three hours. Of course the jury doesn't know this, and their choices were very diverse. One even gave us 12 points!
So when we got third place in the evening show, voted there by people who didn't know us, and all the other contestants seemed to agree we belonged there, we didn't quite know what to do with our happiness. Did we see tears in Le Feux' eyes?
We'll be back next time!
But with an act that doesn't require a leather sofa!!

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