Did you know

There's a farm in Australia that's roughly the size of Belgium....

Population: 16.000 cattle and 15 people.

Food for thought, eh.

(Kengu, you can stop laughing now. Cheers, thanks a lot)

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We're back

The Girlfriend, Kimberly and I are back from London. As I type this, The Girlfriend is uploading a gazillion photos to her Flickr page so I'll refer you there for visuals.
I'm still a bit dazed, but it was great to be "out of it" for three days. No worries about work or other stressful things. Unfortunately that all came crashing back down when we got off the Eurostar.

What did I learn?
- I learnt that Londoners sure love their pinstripe suits, ipods, high heels (the ladies) and football shirts (everyone on a Saturday, and the crazy Rugby League supporters that took over our hotel on Friday).
- The way to differ between a tourist and a Londoner is that the latter can sleep and read on the tube.
- London Ladies still dress up like slappers on a Friday night, and Vicky Pollard is real.
- It's hard to find a restaurant with native English speakers, feels weird to speak better English than the people serving you. I think that's because the English just don't want to serve anyone. Ha!
- London is a world of opposites, which is why I love it.
- Walking will make your feet hurt. A lot. Next time I want one of those golf carts.
- I've never been filmed so much in my life (CCTV is everywhere).
- The Girlfriend looks more dangerous than me. The security guard at the National History museum asked her if she had any knives with her and me if I had "anything sharp".
- London is Geek Town.
- The poofs in Old Compton Street are stuck up bitches: "excuse me, you're invading my personal space, you boobie-having tourist person".
- The ratio poofs/dykes in London is about 1.000.000 to 10 (we counted).
- I've finally seen the Houses of Parliament and Tower Bridge! The Embankment is fabulous. But what the hell are Picadilly Square and Trafalgar Square all about? Good for getting off the tube and getting on again five minutes later.
- There is no Warner Bros shop to be found in London. *pouts*
- The Girlfriend is now addicted to smoothies, milkshakes and potato wedges.
- Camden's become even scarier than it was six years ago.
- London's bloody expensive, and I still calculate everything into Belgian francs while The Girlfriend calculates in Euro.
- Even people in London will look at you funnily when you photograph a rubber duckie.

Things to do next year: British Museum, Hyde Park, the London Dungeon, Tate Modern and a re-run of pretty much everything we did this year.

Can I go back to London now?

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Ducktales

*squeak*
Sweetie, what are you doing?
Kimberly's scared in the car....
*squeeeeeaaaaak*
Now what?
I said she was scared. Now slow down.

Grrrrreat.

We're off to London tomorrow, too early in the morning, with way too much luggage. Well, at least I'll have a lot of luggage, since the Girlfriend hasn't packed yet.

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Eurostar

We're doomed!

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London Calling

A while ago The Girlfriend took me aside and sternly talked to me. "Woman", she said, "I saved up some money and we're going on holiday. Don't start on me with your usual "buying something useful"-crap. We've been together nearly four years and never been on holiday. It's about time we did. And if you keep protesting I'll call it my anniversary gift to you and you'll have nothing to say on the matter."
And off she went, to travel agents. Those of you fluent in Dutch might have read about her "Computer Says No" experiences on her blog (turns out Little Britain wasn't exaggerated after all), so she turned her (and my) attention to the internet.
We booked a three-day-trip to London through some HolidayLine website. Leaving next Thursday, coming back on Saturday. We've never booked like this before, so part of us fears that we were victims to one gigantic prank. "I can't believe people are stupid enough to give us their money when they don't even know we'll really book a hotel room for them", but at least the Eurostar tickets turned out to be real.

So now, for the trip. Anyone with advice on what a couple of dykes can do in London, is welcome. Sights we shouldn't miss, things we shouldn't bother visiting, bars to go to, shops where we can find the essential item for our wardrobe... don't hesitate to tell us.

Mind you, we still haven't changed our money...
And I do hope we manage to find our hotel.

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Oh Pet Shop Boys, how I thee love.



I've been a fan of ze Boys for some 13 years now and been to four concerts. Yesterday's was definitely most entertaining.
Let me explain: My first PSB concert was with Ellen and Jirina, two friends of mine, when we were 19 or so (Nightlife tour). They'd come along as a favour to me and spent the evening staring at the stage with an attitude that said "impress me". They keep proclaiming not being impressed. Tsk. The second was me alone in the Royal Circus (Release tour), which I loved but alone is just alone, third was with Northern Lass in Manchester (also Release), which was brilliant. But the Release tour was very Basic Pet Shop Boys. I mean, they were (pretending to be) a "real band" then, with musicians and stuff. Musicians! At a Pet Shop Boys concert! Good, yes, but very uncamp. Yesterday was everything but "uncamp".
True, there were drunk people all around me, I was soaking wet (despite my umbrella and raincoat) from standing in the rain for six hours, had to endure drunk moshing to Daan, and Leuven was crowded, but... it was the Pet Shop Boys!! Squee!

My fears of a bunch of drunks shouting "poofters" were unnecessary. Oh, it might have been shouted, but the main bulk of the audience was too busy ooh-ing and aah-ing at the stage, choreography, gay boys, camp and kitsch of it all. Ha! Eat that fratboys!
I'm also slightly excited at being at the front row... ok, so it was on the side, and I couldn't see the backing vocalists when they were standing near their microphone stands (which wasn't often), but waaaaaaaah, so close. And I wasn't squashed. If I have to choose between being squashed or missing the immediately-front-stage view, my choice is easy.
Thank you, the Sweetie, for guiding me through my panic of driving to Leuven in zero visibility (torrents of rain will do that to you), my bitching about Leuven (which I have to admit is a beautiful city, if you like open-air museums) and my near-claustrophobic attack (Daan and a drunk flemish audience will do that to you).

And beware, because my Pet Shop Boys love has increased... with a vengeance.
(more photos here)

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Advice needed

I don't suppose anyone is braving Marktrock this Monday to watch the fabulous Pet Shop Boys? No? Ah, I didn't think so. And I don't blame you. I do not fancy driving to bloody Leuven, where I've only been once, six years ago, to be crushed by a herd of drunk students who are wanting to see Everyone But The Pet Shop Boys.
(It's always much better to be pessimistic, in order to not be so disappointed)
Knowing me I'll probably get a claustrophobia attack and faint in the middle of the crowd, crushing the Girlfriend.
Does anyone have any tips, anything at all, to survive this experience?
Where to park? How to push people away from me? Who to befriend? Who to look out for?

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Piglet and the news

Since hearing and reading about the plot to blow up planes I thought three things:
- The gods don't want me to go on holiday by blocking London and forestfiring Spain (because I of course, am always the first thing on my mind, selfcentered as I am)
- This is just like Spooks, they must have been onto these guys for months, if not years.
- Since watching V for Vendetta I do wonder... what if it's all one big plot to make us scared and more gullible to believe our politicians. Oooh, conspiracy theories, ahoy!

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I'm grumpy

Been thinking about when it would be "proper" to blog about something else than my colleague's baby. I'm still thinking about it, worried about her, and I don't want to seem insensitive.
You know a post "oh my god, 500 people were killed somewhere or other, it's a disgrace" followed by something about my ingrowing toenail...
Not that I have an ingrowing toenail, but I guess you get my point. Suddenly everything in your life seems, well, insignificant. And it is, compared to something of that magnitude.

But my tiny battles and my tiny victories and losses and worries and joys are still here. And I still hardly know how to deal with half of those.
For starters, I'm thinking about my Girlfriend's birthday, (suggestions are welcome), that fucking crappy horrible job of mine, the old job, the fact that I've gone running twice (woohoo) in the past week and am still waiting for those endorphins to kick in and make everything alright, my period being freakishly early (oh yes), the fact that I've got to do the ironing and I really don't want to, it being cold -cos fuck, that's annoying, and so on, and so on.
I'm grumpy. Feeling down bordering on a depressive state of mind.
Who's got a cave for me to crawl into?

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Devastated

The nice colleague from my previous job, the one I shared an office with and kept in touch with, just lost her baby. She was some nine months pregnant but the baby was stilborn.
I don't know what to do or to say.
How the hell do you pull yourself together after that. Is it even possible?

Life is a fucking bitch.

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