I've got the key
I've got the secre-e-et
Nanananananaaa
I've got the key
I've got the secret

Damn, I hated that song! But I do have the key. To the house. Which looks smaller than I remember finding it. Hmz. Perhaps I enlarged everything in my enthusiasm. I hear that happens to other people as well...

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Today I shopped, and bought:

- a kitchen utensils starter kit (Blokker). I felt supersad buying this on my own. As if there was no one to cook for me. As if I even knew what to do with all those different shaped spoons!
- a silver CD rack (Aldi, bless Aldi). It had to be silver. And they were of course at the bottom of the pile. I had to lift and pull and I think I ripped a box of "glasses cleaning tissues" in all my violence. Ah well.
Both under command by the girlfriend who's out on her "dyke dates"-day today.
I forgot to buy the drying rack.
Bugger.
Actually, it was called a drying tower. It must be something phallic.
We will need to choose a gas and electricity provider and set up meetings with them. Same with the telephone, ADSL and cable companies.

But do you see what's happening? I'm being the dutiful house-slave, buying the boring stuff, meeting our landlady for the keys tonight, while she is off flaunting about with other women. And we're not even living together yet! What will it be like when we wash each other's dirty knickers? Find each other's toe-nail clippings in the bed (oh eeww) or have to accept that we have bowel movements! We're doomed!

And we have another problem. Since the girlfriend now works full time for a few months we have no shop-for-paint-and-furniture-time. (Saturday is handball day).
And I'm not about to go shopping for these things on my own.
What to do, what to do...

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tired of all these

I need more sleep. A few times now I can feel my attention dissipating as me and the car get closer to work, I start swaying, my eyes are drooping and today I only just avoided a road block. I'd failed to see it was on the motorway instead of next to it.
Not good.

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I'm insulted!


That wannabe-dyke?!

And when I pretend to be a guy (yes, I know, pretending to be a guy says enough about my dyke-ness doen't it) I get this:

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Pet Shop Boys

There's one bit where I'm tied to a bed, whipped and have my nipples tweaked" (Chris Lowe on the Performance tour)

The first world war of the Pet Shop Boys was a theatrical event. A cross between opera, musical and popshows. They took pride in "not having a single guitar on stage" (ooh-er). 15 years later they have toured with guitars and even performed *spits* acoustically. But they're still great.
And now that first theatrical Performance tour is out on DVD. Hence the little add I'm running here. I've not been able to watch it yet but as it includes rehearsal footage and commentary, it's bound to be fa-bu-lous.

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The tonight show

President George W Bush versus Governor George W Bush. (direct link to the film)
(through Titti)

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Sports hall-season

September is nearly gone and Sports hall season has well and truly started. The handball-year has started again, meaning that Piglet sees one sports hall virtually every weekend.
Since the sweetie's team went up a league, this means that we get to go to more exotic places, like Eupen, Eynatten, Melveren (where the fuck is Melveren) and Hasselt. And then she even insisted on going to see the Izegem game today! So that's two sports halls in two days. Soon I'll be able to write a full report on the sports infrastructure in different regions of Belgium.

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Cats

There are two cats in the house that we'll be renting (if the landlady doesn't change her mind) and the lady who's moving out can't take them with her to her new flat. We were very silly and said "oh we don't mind", but then we got thinking... adult cats... who've not been raised by us...who don't know who we are and why we'll be in the house... we've got no clue if they're even raised well... with bad names (Minoes and Lucky for crying out loud!)... But... what will happen to the cats if we don't take them? Will they have to go to an asylum and be put down? I don't want that on my conscience. Or is there someone else she knows, a farmer or something, who could take them in... .The more we think about it, the more we're convinced keeping the cats is a very bad idea.

Cat-owners... do you know what to do?

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announcement

Monday, at 7.30, the sweetie and I will be signing the lease to our house.

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Een beetje verliefd
Ik dacht: En beetje verliefd
Als ik wist wat jij toen dacht
Had ik nooit op jou gewacht
Als een kind zat ik te dromen
Deze nacht ben jij voor mij
Maar die droom ging snel voorbij

André Hazes, 1951-2004.

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Demotte!!

Minister Demotte weigert over de brug te komen met centen voor 34 projecten rond psychiatrische thuiszorg. Hij verbergt zich achter de begroting 2005 maar intussen weten meer dan 2000 psychiatrische patiënten niet of ze na november nog thuis kunnen worden verzorgd. (bron: Groen! Persmededeling)

Dat is dan al één project waarvoor ik straks niet meer moet solliciteren zeker...

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househunting

Piglet and the girlfriend are viewing a three-bedroom house this Thursday. I know, it'll be too bloody big, but the house is cheaper than most flats.
Little tiny problem: it's free from October first.
And we have no furniture.
See if we like it first. And if the house (and landlady) likes us back.

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October 30th 2004

Write this down in your diary because that is the day Les Mystères come out of hibernation. Le Feux, Le Vent and DJ Mel I Sa will be performing at Antar's "gay songfestival", a festival with -you've guessed it- queer songs, which takes place in the Arenbergschouwburg in Antwerp. I guess there might still be tickets available with the nice Antar people... and I'd advise you to get some, because who'd want to miss this? Honestly?!



Judging by the amount of dildos that featured on stage during 2003s "gay eurovision song contest" (note the difference) I fear to hazard a guess what this festival will be like. Unmissable. That's for sure.

Le Feux has been heard to say this will be even better than the last performance (despite the lack of rubber outfits) and DJ Mel I Sa is already drooling over her costume. Le Vent is diligently practising her lyrics.

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urgh

I have turned on the heating.
It is now officially autumn.
oh. And it really is as well.

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Vangelis

I met The Intern today. She does not appear to be too disgustingly dynamic, however she seems very polite and self assured. Damn you! Damn you!
The ladies got drunk on wine this morning to celebrate the leaving of someone as president of the board of directors. Apparently this man wasn't very well loved. I think he didn't get along with The Smiling Supervisor.
Maybe I would have liked him.

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Quiz

I'm two days late (with my period). Am I
a) impregnated by the holy ghost
b) impregnated by the girlfriend
c) stressed
d) looking for an excuse to be hormonal and pissed off a few days longer than usual
e) nothing in particular. Fluctuations are normal.
f) burning out your eyes with this information. "No!!! We don't want to talk about that!!!""
g) too thin to build up a decent dose of oestrogen, progesterone.

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Those were the days

#I love your body not so much I like your mind
except you're boring, pretend not being of my kind#

It's nineties week on radio donna and this has the effect that I can sing along to every bloody song and I feel very, very ancient. Even my own girlfriend doesn't recognise half the songs I squeal out, screaming she was "too young" then and still played with toy cars. Can you believe she's never even heard Pulp's Common People? For Christ's sake!

My first party, my first boyfriend, my sympathising-gay-activism, picking an argument everywhere you could for the sake of discussion, nitpicking on political correctness ("sir, sir, why don't you mention bisexuality in your questionnaire about sexual orientation?"), writing slogans on your dictionary and your school books.... cutting school, depression, sickness, feeling fat and ugly, aaah bless.

#Shut up and sleep with me, come on, aha and sleep with me.#

Don't you just love the clever lyrics of this song? So deep!

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We don't use words like that in this house
(Ruth Fisher)

People have found my blog through the incredible searches of:

- sex marathons in Belgium. did I ever use the word "marathon" and "sex" on the same page?
- Natalia idool sexy now this I do remember saying, quite often.
- promiscuity and seroxat. while you'll get a lot of things from seroxat, promiscuity is entirely your own choice, so sorry if someone was looking for a nifty excuse. "It's not me honey, it's the antidepressants!"
- symptoms of chocolate overdose in animals. I can only help you with the symptoms in humans I'm afraid...

Nedstad is always fun isn't it.

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Fun Files

Ik weet dat jullie allemaal veel te kwalitatief correct zijn om naar Donna te luisteren, maar ja, mijn muzikale smaak is soms in vraag te stellen. Donna zoekt loggers. Loggers die morgenochtend ('s ochtends begot) van 10 tot 12 reclame willen maken voor hun log op hun zender.

Komaan, toegeven... wie heeft er zich al gemeld? Wie?
Als je wil meedoen: funfiles@donna.be is het adres. Denk ik.

(Nee, la Pigleta doet niet mee. Van 10 tot 12 op een zaterdagmorgen slaapt ze.)

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Another bacardi and coke please Myfanwy

Now I think the title alone is enough for one post, don't you.
perhaps we should all name our daughters Myfanwy. Perhaps some people will, who knows.

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Arty farty hoity toity(*)

"One man's "spiritual ill-health" is another man's "lack of self esteem", is another man's "oversupply of blood sugar" is another man's "holistic imbalance". You pays your exorbitant fee and you takes your worthless choice. The fact is nothing can ever be cured or therapied or made whole."
(...)
"You must surely confess that artists, certainly dead ones, are more intelligent, sensitive and intuitive than any therapist with a degree in psychogibber from Keele university or any scurfy outreach person with a diploma from King's or for that matter any mad Druid channeling energy with hot hands and a lump of amethyst."

Mr Stephen -sex god- Fry. The hippopotamus. p172, 174
-reading it slowly to make it last longer-

(*as quoted by Inspector Grim, The Thin Blue Line)

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the voice

I was on the phone to a psychologist today.

A lot of the people we work with are in therapy some place or other and now and again it's necessary to have a tiny chat with the other counselors (after you get the people's permission of course).
Now, is it my imagination or do all psychologists in the coastal area have this Soft Empathic Whispering Psychologist-voice? The few I've had on the phone so far all do. It's bloody scary.

Something I need to work on if I ever want a decent psycho job!

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oh dear

That big beast of mine...
I SWEAR it looked so much bigger as it was crawling on my arm and leg.
I'm such a wimp.

Killed it in a parking lot off the E403 this morning.

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*points at clock*

I only got home about half an hour ago. Something about a session for a new software program to make reports "easier" at work. In reality, a whole load of classifications determined to kill creativity and flexibility.
Ok, I'm exaggerating.
I just don't like the fact that I have to be able to categorise my actions in five categories. I don't want to think that way.

Right now, I'm off to bed. Soft snuggly luscious bed.

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Beast

I was attacked by a beast in my car yesterday (no clue what it was, it looked like a grasshopper and a spider, but it had wings).
I'd gone to the petrol station and as I drove back home I felt something on my head. I thought it was just a hair (since they're falling out like autumn leaves in November) and as I brushed it away, I noticed that unfortunately this thing had legs. I shrieked. There was no one nearby with some killing device so all I could do was try and park the car somewhere and shake my arm like a loony.
It worked.
Unfortunately the creature moved to my legs. After stomping about there (not handy when you're meant to keep your foot on the gas pedal) -and noticing that i was parked in a very dangerous spot- I drove back on -still shrieking- and tried to kill it in my usual parking spot in front of the house.
It disappeared.
Will it make another appearance today? Like when I'm on the motorway, going 120?
Perhaps it will kill me instead of the other way around... please don't, evil beast.

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on estate agents

Estate agents. You can't live with them, you can't live with them. The first sign of these nasty purulent sores appeared round about 1894. With their jangling keys, nasty suits, revolting beards, moustaches and tinted spectacles, estate agents roam the land causing perturbation and despair. If you try and kill them, you're put in prison: if you try and talk to them, you vomit. There's only one thing worse than an estate agent but at least that can be safely lanced, drained and surgically dressed. Estate agents. Love them or loathe them, you'd be mad not to loathe them.

Stephen Fry.

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How to make me want to look for a different job

- You work on a report for about an hour, and you get about 15 minutes to present it on the team meeting, because other things (art exhibitions etc) took precedence.
- They suggest things that you know are not helpful in this particular case with these particular people. Your protests are interpreted as incompetence or fear. "But can you not guide the conversation towards that, Piglet?" Well, I'd rather not.
- "I suggest Piglet takes the photo for the paper, since she's only here temporarily. You know, in the case of the image-formation to the outside world, you needn't be on it." She was right, but it's still not a very nice thing to hear.
- Retraining is not for you, even when it's free. You're not an option, even though you could use some extras to put on your CV. They'd rather not go at all, than offer it to you. You see, you're only temporary, you would take the information in your brain with you elsewhere instead of letting it simmer in the organisation.
- "I suggest Piglet does these shit jobs since she does less work than the others". Well, how about giving Piglet some actual extra work then, so she's not bored shitless 14 out of 28.5 hours a week? Like, oh, I don't know. Retraining? An extra family? Some research? Anything that might be more useful than biting her nails at her desk, reading psychology books to her benefit?
- And lastly, I'm not interested in the price and ripeness of fruits. If I choose not to participate in similar conversations, it's not because I'm not "dynamic" (though I'll grant you that I'm not dynamic. I'm not. It's pointless and stupid.), it's rather because I honestly could not care less. And if I ever have children that are as perfect as yours seem to be, I'll put them in a psychiatric hospital. Something must be dreadfully wrong with them.

I think it's time I fired up the VDAB site again.
Even though I'd feel awfully guilty leaving them in a lurch. Aaargh. Do I do the decent thing or the selfish thing?!

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Message to Mister T. Henman

Dear Chickenlegs,

I don't know what happened. Is your tennis that much better? Are your opponents scared of you? Are you on drugs? Fact is, you got to the semi-finals of a Grand Slam twice this year already.
This is not good for my mental health. I would kindly ask you not to do this anymore. You can go to the fourth round, if you absolutely must, but no further. Please. Do it for the children.
Thank you.

Piglet Wildebeest.

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Slow weekend

Since the last of the girlfriend's birthday presents consisted of DVDs we had our work cut out for us this weekend. Add to that the Monday evening shows I'd taped for us when my sweetie was at work, and the Wednesday film, and our eyes hardly left the TV screen.

As we went out to get dinner (chips) Saturday evening both my neighbour (30-ish, father of the one-year-old cutie) and the chip shop bloke (30-ish) asked if we had any wild plans. Erm. No. We were going to watch TV and cuddle up. You could tell by their faces they thought we were inexplicably boring.

We were reading in bed yesterday evening.
Having overdone ourselves on DVDs all weekend, we thought it was time for a change. But quickly we found out that two people in one single bed, reading, is not something for the untrained couple. There's the matter of where to put your arms, of not poking the other's eye out when you're turning a page and of not hogging all the covers.
We're getting there.

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surprise

I got the last of the girlfriend's birthday presents today.
I know, I went totally overboard, but let's face it, last year I was poor, next year I probably will be again so I have to go for it now.

I'm so curious as to how she'll react!
I'm off to pick her up from work now...

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Since you're all talking about it.

I don't want to be left out you see.

So I'll refer you to my post on the topic. From about nine months ago.

Sigh.

I know, I'm so trendy it's unbelievable.

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Do day fun!

I'm sure you'll all be buzzing with excitement to hear how the "do day" went! Aren't you! Aren't you!

Well, I went. And that makes me a good, better, changed person. I would've wheezled out of it back in school. Lord knows I did that enough times. But not this time. There was no fever, unfortunately, so I went. -Pats self on the back-

I cycled around Poperinge. If you've never been there (it is on the edge of the world, so I wouldn't blame you), the area is beautiful. It makes me want to pack up the girlfriend and our bikes (ok, she doesn't have a bike, but that's a detail) and go on a cycling trip there. that's how much I liked the area. (Of course she'll want to live there then... hmz. Better not.) So yeah, beautiful, and hilly. Sigh. But even though I haven't been on a bike in about six months (since I got my license - shameless!) I managed to overtake the bicycle-mad oldies.
There were pubs with folk games. Talk about fruit diets ("they really work! It must be some kind of amino-acid thing!" -aminoacid thing? How about you lose weight because you're eating hardly anything but water?), perfect children, magnificent scenery, truly splendid weather, a breath-taking team, and other very annoying adjectives. There were bicycles, everyone but me in shorts and one very sore arse (mine).

I survived. Got home about half an hour ago, a bit before 10pm. I'm starting an hour later tomorrow. Screw em.

Oh, and further on the topic of the clueless secretary: she told me today that -since my name is Gretl (the flemish version of it, not the even more shameful German variant)- I needed a boy named Hans(el), that would be really funny.
Aaaaaaaaaargh!

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Karma?

I cleaned my car yesterday. Out of necessity, I might add. The windscreen was so dirty and striped that I could hardly see clearly. So I had my fun with the high pressure hose and foam and was proud as a peacock (ahem) that my chickmobile was all shiny.
This evening, I'm driving home on the pitch-dark motorway and I hear a ticking sound now and again. Tick. Tick. Not a clue what's going on, until I reach an exit and there are street lights.
Bloody birds crapped all over my beautiful shiny windscreen.
Aaaaaaaaargh!

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It was bound to happen someday.

According to the cardiologist, my mother's veins are silting up. Thirty years of smoking, uncontroled use of medication and unhealthy eating are catching up with her.

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Hysterical

The work thing will take till late in the evening. We probably won't be back at the workplace till about 8pm.
Goodie.
I was going to have dinner with my girlfriend and the in-laws that evening, I guess we can rule that out. I'll rush back after my bicycle ordeal, sweaty, tired and pissed off, and be able to have an icecream, before I rush back home to prevent that exhaustion (not to mention a sore arse) overcomes me in the car.

The bicycle thing will be accompanied with old folk games (a gun! a gun! my kingdom for a gun!), a "drinky" and "little bites" to eat. I hate the expression "een hapje en een drankje". I hate it. They use it all the time.

Damn, I wish I had a fever.
Do you reckon 36.4 counts as one? Can't I claim my body temperature is 35°C or something?

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bad news

bicycles are required during the "do-day"

I think I'm going to kill myself...

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Happy birthday sweetie!

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Oh bloody hell

I just heard Tim bloody Henman is in the Quarter Finals of the US open. Someone please kick him out!
Preferably Olivier Rochus...

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Of earrings, birthdays and eloquence

You'll have to excuse me today if I'm a little even less eloquent and intelligent than I usually am.
I woke up with a splitting headache which is now slowly leaving me as I spent the last two hours lying down, gazing at nothing much in particular.
However, duty calls and I have to go birthday present shopping this afternoon. I do hope my sweetie's new work schedule means we can still see a bit of each other and that my planned visit tomorrow can go on. Otherwise it's no present (Me - with a rainbow-coloured bow tied around my waist) for the poor thing on her birthday! So I'll go splash some water on my face, re-do my hair, put on my sunglasses and venture outside for those missing details.

On another note, I think there are gnomes in my room. You know, the ones like David. With a pointy hat? Big white beard? Professor Flitwick? Two evenings in a row, the lowest earring from my left ear disappeared. Gone. At first I blamed the girlfriend. She might have gnawed my ear too enthusiastically and ... well, eaten the earring or something. But she claimed the thing was still there when she'd finished gnawing. Yesterday I found the first earring back. In my bed. This morning I found the one that went missing Saturday. On my comfy chair, buried underneath my teddybears.
Did the gnomes give them back because I found out about their existence?
Or did I take one painkiller too many and am I hallucinating?

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Damn you! Damn you!



I need to stop leaving the house with my bank card...

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De Wolken

Ik droeg nog kleine kleren, en ik lag
Lang-uit met moeder in de warme hei,
De wolken schoven boven ons voorbij
En moeder vroeg wat'k in de wolken zag.

En ik riep: Scandinavië, en: eenden,
Daar gaat een dame, schapen met een herder-
De wond'ren werden woord en dreven verder,
Maar 'k zag dat moeder met een glimlach weende.

Toen kwam de tijd dat'k niet naar boven keek,
Ofschoon de hemel vol van wolken hing,
Ik greep niet naar de vlucht van't vreemde ding
Dat met zijn schaduw langs mijn leven streek.

- Nu ligt mijn jongen naast mij in de heide
En wijst me wat hij in de wolken ziet,
Nu schrei ik zelf, en zie in het verschiet
De verre wolken waarom moeder schreide-

Martinus Nijhoff

Gevonden bij het lezen van informatie over KOPP kinderen

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meep

Woke up with a fever and the feeling that all the air in my lungs was made up of stuffy cobwebs.
Yet, I still went to work.
How masochistic stupid good of me is that?!
Applause for myself.

And no, it wasn't a plot to infect them all!
Tsk.

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be careful what you wish for

you know when I asked for germs?
I meant by next THURSDAY. you know, the teambuilding thing. Not now!
I didn't want to get my yearly bout of sinusitus now, when I'm meant to spend the first weekend in ages devoted to my girlfriend and my girlfriend alone!!

*shniffle*
Pass me the hankies would you... my head hurts.

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My girlfriend

Now this is my kind of t-shirt!



With thanks to alsion!

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