finished

...the transcribing/translating job.
I'm ecstatic for the extra money, but keeping two "jobs" is bloody stressfull.

From now on I'm available again for sleeping, slobbing, partying (only till 11 on weeknights though - we do have work in the morning), dinnerparties, drunken debauchery (on coca cola - and just because I like using the word "debauchery"), Buffy and Alias-DVD-marathons, reading, lighting candles and being in luuuurve, mindless television, slash addictions and nonsensical msn-conversations.

It's good to be back!

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Who makes up these things?

I swear, I always thought shows like The Office were taking the piss. But they're not are they. They're deadly serious.
This morning there was a 15 minute debate at work about what to do for the birth of the baby of an ex-employee. There are guidelines about what to do when the baby of an employee is born (even about how many people go to the funeral of which of your relatives), but none about what to do when the baby in question popped out of an ex-employee or his/her wife.
Card or present or both? And visit? What had they done with other employees, did the distance count, did the amount of time they'd worked there count, oh the questions!

Next Thursday afternoon is "do day" at work. A nice innocent way of putting "bloody teambuilding crap day". Someone please kill me. Or better yet, infect me with something highly contageous by then. Something that will keep me incapacitated for at least a week and is very infectuous. i don't want them to decide to spend their Do-day as a cycling trip to my sickbed!
The Secretary revealed a bit of the secret: it's not allowed to rain next Thursday afternoon.

That does not sound encouraging.
Germs, please?

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Gent

As I had to go to Gent today for the experiment I thought I might as well take advantage of the situation and go shopping. Seeing as I had to buy several people a birthday present as well, this seemed a good opportunity. Of course I didn't stay out too long, since I had to work (translate) this afternoon.

In a fit of idiocy environmentally friendliness I decided to take public transport, which led me to the following conclusions:
- Trains are still the same as they were four months ago, when I last took one
- Trains have the positive side effect that you can read and have breakfast/lunch while traveling. The negative side effect however is that you have to put up with other people, such as the gang of teenagers (who were singing and took off their shoes, complaining loudly about the smell), the middle-aged women who didn't put their Pepsi Max can in the bin, the mother and baby ("eet maar uw boboke" - boterham) and the old people.
- Trams mean that you can observe the old ladies who ostentatiously sits on a double seat, on the hallway side and puts her purse next to her (window seat) so no one will come sit next to her. On a tram that's full to burst, this is rather criminal behaviour and should be rewarded with a kick up the arse.
- Trams are always too full and uncomfortable
- You can listen in to other people's mobile phone conversations (never interesting), and hear a very white spotty adolescent go "whassup" to his mate.
- You see how Jorje's mother checks if he gets on the tram and he pretends to be cool
- Not every little kid has been taught to be wary of paedophiles. Proof of this was the little girl who came and sat next to me and told me her life story. When I asked where her mummy was, she said she was waiting somewhere else. A little later the mother came to check on the girl with a tired look in her eyes.
- I've said it before and I'm afraid I'll say it again: deodorant should be made obligatory.

All in all an interesting morning/noon.

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Ask the bottomites

Ted Wallace tells us how women don't like sex and men do.

"Whenever I point it out to my women friends, they instantly deny it; they will claim to be regular masturbators; they will claim that the idea of a good anonymous fuck is a real turn-on; they will claim that only the other day they saw a man whose bottom reminded them a little of Mel Gibson and that they got really quite juicy thinking about it. Only the other day? What about only the other minute? What about every damned sodding bloody minute of every bloody damned sodding day?"

The Hippopotamus, Stephen Fry, p18.
(with thanks to Agingyoungrebel for trekking through Brussels for me!)

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French virgin

I took my first call in French today.

You answer the phone, as politely as you can manage in the morning: "name of organisation I can't mention if I don't want them to find out what I really think", Piglet speaking. I'm tired and my supervisor is here so don't piss me off or make me look incompetent" and you expect someone to answer you in Dutch. Not always very understandable Dutch, but Dutch. Instead I got a barrage of sentences in bloody French! Worse than that, some of those were questions, meaning I had to find an answer. In French.

I shocked myself in that I managed to find enough French to make myself understandable. Shocking, seeing as it's seven years ago since I last had to use the language. Perhaps the lady was used to buggered up French though.
Even more shocking is how easy the french R came back to me. Grrrrrrrr.

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eak

I swear.. this is the second day in a row, car after car full of british people.
What is going on?
Is there a new invasion no-one mentioned?

Once they get to Brussels they'll get out their machine guns and occupy Belgium until the European Union gives in to their demands and splits up!

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Hush hush darling

"So Piglet", she asked empathically as we were alone during the morning break, "did you mind not having a holiday?"
"Not really" I said. What was I meant to say? I had 9 months of unemployed "holiday" after all.
And what did I do during normal holidays? I said I worked, did an internship, read a lot and hung out with people.
"Oh, so you don't really have an active holiday" she went.
Well, we're not all born with a spoon up our arse (I'm sure that's not the saying, but it feels more appropriate) so we can't all go on five holidays a year like you and your kids. "And you're not in a youth organisation?"
"Well, not unless you count the dead dykes and poofs club" "Oh no, that's not really my kind of thing".
I got a little pitying glimpse for that, as she spooned her yoghurt (which was 3 days past its sell by date, ha!). "My children are all very active" she shared. And went on about her perfect son who's going for a doctorate and loved to read and was always very active in the youth organisation (hey! Uniforms are not my thing, I'm a loner, not a sheep), and her other perfect son, the musician alternative, pot smoking (scandal! scandal!), trekking type. And her perfect daughters, obsessed with horses and whathaveyou.
And I smiled.
In my fantasy I was stabbing her with my apple-knife.
Condescending little bitch.

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questions of the world

Am I the only reasonably tall dyke in the world?
I thought of this as the Girlfriend said another dyke had referred to me as "that tall girl". Tsk. I'm not abnormally tall!
So since I'm not abnormally tall, this begs the question, are other dykes abnormally short?
I can't really think of a tall dyke...
oh yeah... that one (Buffy) from handball... but that's it. And perhaps that other handball dyke the girlfriend fancied. But that's it. Three "normal height" girls versus a legion of short dykes?

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#tell me whyyyyyyyy, tell me whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy-y-yy*

Is this island empty?
It seems as if all Britons have decided that Belgium is the place to be today. I met up with quite a few of them on the roads, ideal for my road rage (you can actually drive faster than 100 on the left lane you know). Now this begs the question: why?
Why are all British people in Belgium today of all days?
Someone tell me!

*courtesy of Jimmy Somerville. Or Bronski Beat. I always mix them up.

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Olympic Eurovision

I found out why I like the Olympics so much.
They're playing "volare" ("ooooh-oooh") - a Eurovision song- before the first extra time in the handball match Germany/Spain (28-28 at the moment).

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Lunch time conversation

- Justine Henin is a top class woman, though not a beauty
- Kim Clijsters won't make a come back
- There's this male gymnast who was robbed
- There's this female gymnast who fell (Khorkina)
- A Chinese gymnast looked about 9, but was 15 and was robbed as well
- The Spanish gymnast looked half dead
- Mauresmo looks like a man and is ugly (but what a body... I said - my co workers didn't agree)
- someone's kids are cycling through the North of France
- the apples are really not tasty this time of year

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why soap is a good thing

Because, when you come home from a hard day's work (ahem) your hands will be covered in dog scent & slime (two breeds) and toddler-biscuit-hands.
The first breed of dog will be fed biscuits by the toddler when he has his head on your lap (the dog). The toddler will then proceed to climb on top of you and engage in stereotypical behaviour. While eating the other half of the biscuit (the part that's not gobbled up by the bulldog)
The second breed of dog probably has lice or fleas. He bites and licks himself all the time. You have to sit on a spot on the couch that he just vacated. Said spot is slightly damp from his spit.
Nice.
And why can't male dogs hide their penis? It's very unflattering...

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Routine

This Saturday the girlfriend and I babysat a gorgeous smart little girl. The little girl next door. She's now 1 and three months and she's adorable. Unless when she doesn't want to go to bed and screams the place down... so we did the thing all sensible babysitters do. We knocked her out with alcohol We read her the "first book of numbers" ten times until she finally became tired. But even then I was more tired than she was!

Meanwhile I'm also working my gorgeous arse off for my other job where I'm trying to meet a deadline. This resulted in me not having enough attention for the girlfriend over the weekend, something I intend to make up for once this thing is well and truly over.

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Boobies

I need a new bra. And before you ask, no, those -nice as they are- are not my boobies.
I need a new black bra to be precise. Without any lacy frills, ribbons, cutesy wutesy designs, padding and/or plastic. Just a normal, soft, black bra. The one I have now is the frilly kind (the only kind they had in the shop) and it's either been washed once too many or my boobs have shrunk/grown ... it's uncomfortable. And it itches. I take it off when I get home from work, meaning I have to put it on again if I want to go outside after that.
Or I don't put it on again and imagine I can feel people staring at me.
So, yes, a black bra.
Do they bring those on mail order? I really don't have the time or the energy to fit millions of them...

[edited: with a rant provoked by rane_ab]The trouble with bra-shopping is that you try and buy a bra in one of the cheaper stores, you know, H&M, Hunkemoller (which are not that cheap anymore though are they) and all you can find -even there- are padded bras or patterned lacy bras. I just want a plain bra (black, white) that I can wear under light or dark clothes that won't leave a visible design through my T-shirts. Is that too much to ask? Yes, it is, apparently.

And I don't want or need padding. I don't have huge boobs, but they're big enough for me and I like them just fine as they are. They don't need to appear bigger or fuller to the casual observer.

Or if they do have plain bras they're either without braces (I might as well not wear one then) or they're hideous. I might not want an erotic lingerie set, but I don't want a bra that will make me look a-sexual either. They're like these strips of elastic with two tubes in fabric, where you're meant to stick your breasts. And they never ever fit.

Has bra-manufacturing been taken over by men?

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Olympics matter of the day

Those muscle flexing moments gymnasts have in between their big salto-littered runs... you know, where they just stand there, roll their shoulders, pull out their leg, do a jump or two... do they actually have any use or are they just there to fill the gaps in between the "tumble"-runs?

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Truth

Woman in one of my families had a right go at me.
What was I doing there, week after week, wasting her time, sitting there, not changing anything, I couldn't even get her off the black lists for loans, I did nothing, why was I still there. Et cetera et cetera.
It wouldn't have got to me as much if it weren't for the fact that she was right. What am I doing there, week after week. it's pointless. "Change this problematic family situation" the juvenile court says. Well, why don't you try. If the family doesn't want to change or doesn't see why they should, then there's fuck all you can do. So I do waste her time, week after week. And my own. And that of three quarters of my families basically. (read 3 of my 4 families).
I wish I could quit my job.

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sexism!


Regardless of the homo-eroticism here... if this is what male beach volleyball players still wear.. then Piglet is filing a complaint for blatant sexism!
(plus it's unfair for the ladies and gentlemen who appreciate the male form... I'm looking out for you!)

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If it's Wednesday, this must be Belgium

Aaaah, sleeping in on a Wednesday... how fabulous.

Piglet's watching of Olympic sports can be added with women's K1 kayaking. Very fascinating, looked like some wild water rafting thing you have in Bellewaerde (or Six Flags, or Disneyland). But then with Kayaks. And paddles. And ports of some kind.
AND I missed the first half of France v Hungary (handball) because I got the Greek timezone messed up. Can't they live in Central European Time like the rest of us normal folk? Hrmpf!

I'm Chauffeur Piglet again, for The Mother. I'm Taping Piglet as well, since I'm taping the second half of the handball match for my sweetie. In a minute's time I'll be Housewife Piglet (when I vacuum the hairs off my floor -I'm going bald!-) and then I'm aspiring to be Calculating Piglet (when I count how much/little money I have left for the rest of the month), Transcription Piglet and Cramping Piglet.

It's nice to have all of us together in this one body!

(posted by Blogging Piglet)

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Of blind and deaf colleagues

The Secretary at work is clueless. She's seen the girlfriend. One Friday afternoon when we were going to the seaside, I'd picked the girlfriend up at the station in V. and we changed into our bikinis in the toilets at work. The secretary was the only one there.
Now, the girlfriend was wearing her butchest dykiest outfit. The tough halter top (I have one too, so don't go making suggestions about my butchness!), the three quarter jeans, the sunglasses and the gelled hair. To top that off, the girlfriend always pretends to be is all tough when she's nervous.
I thought she would have caught on, especially coupled with the "girlfriend" remarks I keep making.
But no... today I heard that "my future boyfriend might want to build a house, and then there I'd be with my determination not to build, but to buy".

Do I have to put naked pictures of us together on my desk or something?

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Een Chinees

Het radionieuws van half zes. Ik zit in de auto, ergens tussen Brugge en I. "Gella Vandecaveye is verslagen in het judo door de Cubaanse Gonzales en Jean-Michel Saive is verslagen door een Chinees".

EEN Chinees.

Het maakt niet uit welke dus.

Ik voel me helemaal Huug, maar ik lag echt plat van het lachen.

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Modesty

"it was the note Leanne had written after their incredible first time together. And it was incredible. He would never forget that first flush of excitement when he'd realised he could bed anybody, even his own sister-in-law! What a turn-on!"

It's about your friend. Phillip Scott (p240)

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Piglet speaks

A message to all male gymnasts (and female too I suppose): please, shave your armpits.
If synchronised divers can do it, so can you.

I thank you.

(synchronised diving? What the hell is that all about?)

Why weren't the Olympics on last year, when I didn't have a job? It would have given me the perfect passtime: slob around in front of the TV, watching athletes in obscure sports.
I wish there was a TV set at work...

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Almost famous!

Did you hear it? Did you hear it?
I. was on the news today!
I heard it on the radio news this morning!
Floodings and heavy storm in I. last night!
(of course I only noticed heavy winds, a pathetic thunder, some lightning and lots of cosy rain).
You can all rest assured. Casa Pigleta is not flooded!

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Yeah baby yeah

Scrap the old pin up, I already have a new one! And one the girlfriend and I can agree on... almost the complete French and Danish handball teams!
Counting the dykie possibilities really requires all of your concentration and more than the fingers of one hand. Tervel, Vogein, Cano, Nicolas, Brodsgaard, make posters of yourselves, so we can hang them over our beds!

I don't want to go to work tomorrow... think about all the yummy goodness I'll miss...

The commentators on France 3 are fabulous! Even if the other party makes a good shot, they'll say it. They were talking about "des vrais monstres" (men of 2 metres and taller), "les potteaus qui nous sauvent" and so on. I love them.

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Ms Heylen

My lesbian judo pin-up won Bronze!

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I've already watched

- women's basketball
- beachvolleyball (is that a sport?)
- judo (with Ilse Heylen, new lesbian pin up)
- men's volleyball (The Netherlands v Russia)
- men's handball (Germany v Greece, France v Brasil)
- swimming (a load of people, in different styles)
- fencing (martians with sticks)
- badminton (mixed doubles and singles)
- rowing
- a minute of women's hockey

I need a hobby...

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I have a work ethic!

Chauffeur Piglet drove The Girlfriend to her handball-friends so she could play a practise match in Waasmunster of all places. Since Dimi won't be showing up this time, Piglet thought she might as well stay home. Unfortunately this means I'll miss the always bitchy atmosphere when two dirty-playing teams meet each other. But no, someone has to stay here to translate Antwerp ladies into English (and earn money for a sofa, a washing machine or a coffee maker) and to tape the first Handball match of the Olympics! Europameister Deutschland gegen Griechenland. I wonder how many "zwei Minuten Zeitstraffe" they'll get this time!
I wonder if the atmosphere will be as bitchy as in Waasmunster....

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Need sunglasses?

Yes.
As you can see.
From now on... we're pink, both in nature as in style.

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Olympic Resolution



My Olympic Resolution for today.
I want to watch Olympic handball.
Deutschland Zwei, Here I come!

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Ode to Dusty

Like a circle in a spiral
Like a wheel within a wheel
Never ending or beginning
On an ever-spinning reel
As the images unwind
Like the circles that you find
In the windmills of your mind
(Windmills of your mind)

Because I love this woman.
(and I need to mention a queer icon now and again so as not to lose that queer license of mine)

When I was in Ghent. In that little room of mine. While other students who lived in my corridor were drawing penises on the notebook I'd taped to my door as an "answering machine". And I was feeling sad, lonely, depressed and damn well sorry for myself. I could always count on Dusty to make me feel worse. Cos that's what her music does. Ideal for wallowing in self pity and for this stormy rainy weather.

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Psycho-mode

Got very annoyed at the radio reports about how some 12% of Belgians has drinking problems. Not that I'm disputing the figures, not at all. Just the reasoning behind it. Apparently a man is an alcoholic when he drinks more than 6 glasses a day and a woman at 4.
That's utter drivel.
People who drink less can be alcoholics too. And some people can probably drink more without having a problem.
Alcoholism is not a matter of measurement, it's about why. Why you are drinking. Whether or not you control it. Can you stop after one glass. Can you stop before you're drunk. Do you drink to feel better. Do you think you need it. Do you want to be drunk every weekend. Those are ways to determine alcoholism. Not the simple "4 or 6 glasses".
They really should know better.

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Embarrassment

As I go outside to close the car windows ("chance of rain tonight and early tomorrow morning"), something happens that has me flush with embarrassment.
It's not the fact that I'm hardly wearing clothes. I'm way past caring about that.
It's the fact that you can very clearly hear the tones of "Cha Cha Slide" coming from my open window (with fly screen). Meaning that everyone who walks past my window at any time of the day can listen in to such horrifying things as me "maiahiii-ing" along, my questionable taste in music and radio stations and the conversations I have with myself. Including my "oh shut up bitch" when the horrible Karen Meynen is on the radio (or that other woman. Ann Thingie. I can never keep them apart) and I put on a CD.

It's an awful revelation.

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Boeren

Is het mijn idee of zou Clouseau zelfs singles verkopen als ze gewoon luidkeels in de microfoon boeren?
Wat een onding is dat nieuwe liedje. Er zit geen ritme in, geen goeie tekst en het is bovendien nog een hypocriet gelul. Schoonheid zit van binnen, zei de man die in geen enkel boekske al ooit met een vrouw met kledingmaat 40 of hoger heeft geposeerd.
Give me a break.

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Help me! I'm a lesbian!

The button on my skirt is falling off.
Can anyone sew it back on for me?
Anyone?

Oh, and if anyone can teach me how to change a tire while we're at it, be my guest. I have visions of flat tires and bad B-movies where the "stranded damsel" gets murdered.
Besides, it's essential for my queer license.

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The joys of republican leadership

Lethal new regulations from President Bush’s Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) in Atlanta, quietly issued with no fanfare last week, complete the right-wing Republicans’ goal of gutting HIV-prevention education in the United States. In place of effective, disease-preventing safe-sex education, little will soon remain except failed programs that denounce condom use, while teaching abstinence as the only way to prevent the spread of AIDS. And those abstinence-only programs, researchers say, actually increase the risk of contracting AIDS and other sexually transmitted diseases (STDs).

Blatantly stolen from Titti.

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No smoking?

just remembered my parents were going to quit smoking (again) today.
Didn't really pay any attention to the smell in the house or whether or not a fag was hanging in between their fingers...

I guess I'll find out when I head downstairs for dinner.

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Decisions

I can't decide whether I'm too hot or too cold. Quite a distressing feeling. I mean, normally you don't "decide" a thing like this do you. You just feel it. Well, now I don't. One moment I'm reaching for my sweater, the next I convince myself to stay slutty.

Spent the afternoon colouring in trucks with a 4-year-old and discussing the benefits of Rock Werchter with a 15-year-old.
(Yes, I coloured well)

The flat The Girlfriend and I were looking at for January won't be available till April -and that is at the earliest-. Since the people who live there now are building a house, I think we can safely assume it'll be nearer to the summer holidays.
Aaargh. Perhaps we should look for something else.

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Plastic

The girlfriend gave me the second series of Alias. Well, not as in a gift (she's not that generous) but for safe keeping. She's afraid she won't be able to resist temptation and watch all 22 episodes in a row at home. With me working (grumble, grumble) and me only liking the series after she was already obsessed, temptation should be smaller for me.
I took the little plastic wrapper off the DVD Boxset. I can see three double DVDs inside. Waiting for us to watch them. But I will not give in. I'll focus on transcribing tapes and on... on... oh fuck, on work I suppose.

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Hot girls! Hot girls!

My parents took the chickmobile to the garage for its 10.000 km - small checkup. Everything is ok, I haven't wrecked it yet. Incidentally, neither have my parents on their way to and from the garage. Oh boy, were they gonna pay if they did!
The Girlfriend has it in her head that she wants to go to Fnac to buy books. Nothing else will do, must be Fnac. Driving in these kinds of temperatures... I'm going to demand lots of smoochies from her for the effort I put in. Especially since I decided I'm not going to spend half my wages on DVDs and clothes like I did last month. I'm not. I promise.
Top that off with the fact that I just killed a mosquito (drowsy because of the anti-mosquito-thingie in the plug) and I think I deserve the title of Girlfriend of the Month.
Piglet rules...
Oh yeah baby...

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sagapo!

I'm not working tomorrow!!!

Just thought I'd share that information.

Inspection at work today. They've been worrying about this for months now. Got out the good coffee cups. Made me do the dishes (yes! Moi!), arranged who would make how much coffee to make her feel welcome, no one had to bring lunch to work - sandwiches would be provided (in case the inspector would eat there)- and the supervisor stressed about whether to call her "madam inspector" or "inspectress" (or whatever the english is).

In walks a cute, 30-something curly haired woman, all smiles and enthusiasm. She'd come by train. When everyone had been expecting a sour-faced prune, ready to rip everything to shreds.

It was fun to see the supervisor get all worked up and nervous over nothing.

ha!

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I did it!

I did the light-flicker thing at some idiot who'd overtaken me from the right.
After honking at an old lady (she was in my way dammit!) I fear I have now reached a new low.

On another note...

I like big butts and I cannot lie...


Barbie Got Back! Go you! You're the closest thing
ever to a true black Barbie. Shake that fat
ass of yours.


If You Were A Barbie, Which Messed Up Version Would You Be?
brought to you by Quizilla

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Because it's a warm summers day

All together now...

#Ma-ia-hii Ma-ia-huu Ma-ia-hoo Ma-ia-haa-haa
Ma-ia-hii Ma-ia-huu Ma-ia-hoo Ma-ia-haa-haa
Ma-ia-hii Ma-ia-huu Ma-ia-hoo Ma-ia-haa-haa
Ma-ia-hii Ma-ia-huu Ma-ia-hoo Ma-ia-haa-haa
Ma-ia-hii Ma-ia-huu Ma-ia-hoo Ma-ia-haa-haa

Vrei sa pleci dar nu ma, nu ma iei,
Nu ma, nu ma iei, nu ma, nu ma, nu ma iei!#

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On transcribing and how not to progress

Wandered around listlessly today. My attempts at working once again broken off, but this time by my own feeling of Meh. Yesterday I had the excuse that Baloo needed me to paint his dreadfully green coloured walls white, the day before The Sweetie needed trousers (which we didn't find) and the afternoon before that was spent at the beach. In the dunes. Whatever.
Went to city hall this morning because I need a simple stamp on my driver's license. A stamp that says I'm fit to drive a car for my job. Because of this one simple stamp, I need a whole new license. That's efficiency for you! They'll make me a new license WITH a stamp as opposed to just adding a stamp to the one I have now. I tried to work after that, but ... aargh. Honestly. The views of idiots from Antwerp on smoking and social services don't really hold my attention for long.

As I write this the girlfriend is dying somewhere in a fit of masochism. Running during her first handball practise after three months of sitting on her arse. I remember how I slowly had to nurse her back to life after each one of those horror sessions last year. Until she got used to it, got her fitness back and developed nicely muscled arms. *groar*
I should hoover but it's too hot. There. That's my excuse for the day.

Perhaps a shower can bring me back to life...

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