In another 30 minutes or so, I'm off to "la douce France" for four nights. The Champagne region to be precise Not spectacular and not a spectacularly long trip, but it'll be nice to get away for a few days. I spend way too much time at home as it is I hope the weather will be good...

I'm not a huge fan of youtube blog posts, but this is just too cool to not post


Star Trek is coming nearer Imagine how handy it would be for vacuuming if we didn't have any furniture resting on the floor, lol.

You go to bed at midnight and set the alarm clock for 6.15AM, as BF sits down behind his laptop and starts working.
At 6.15AM you crawl out of bed and realize that BF never made it to bed.
You shuffle absentmindedly to the bathroom and give BF a hug as he prepares to go to bed.
You decide to not turn on all the lights, at least not yet, and shuffle down the dark stairs.
As you are about to enter the living room, you realize that the living room door isn't actually open as you thought and you come to a dead stop.
Your face is a mere 5 centimeters from the glass door.
You sigh. If only you could crawl back into bed with BF...


This is why you shouldn't go to a concert on a weekday, except if you take the following day off work

I'm exceptionally home alone this evening and tonight. I've really 'taken advantage' of the situation by sitting in front of my computer all evening But I'll make sure I'll have some quality time with myself in bed, before falling asleep

For those who like black and white photography, here are some of my attempts:
[url]http://starsofglass.jalbum.net/Black-and-white/[/url]

They say you shouldn't let things fester, that you should get things out of your system. So that's just what I'll do.

My boss is a selfish, judgmental, irrational and disrespectful woman who deserves to be slapped in the face when she has one of her tantrums. 3.5 years working my ass off for that woman and to be treated as incompetent because she can't give proper instructions, it pisses me off. It doesn't matter that she bought me chocolates for my birthday or that she has forgotten her insults an hour later, it's just no way to treat people. I've seen her do it to others numerous times. But this is the first time it's directed at me, and it only motivates me more to look for a way out of this job and the rat race in general.

/hums the song "fuck you" by Lily Allen...

When I read the story about my grandfather (blog entry below) out loud for my creative writing class, there was silence afterwards. Everybody seemed impressed, and one person even said that it was "a tough act to follow". And while gaining self-confidence is one of goals of the class, I am/was a bit confused as to how I should react.

On the one hand, all I wanted was to smile at the acknowledgment. On the other hand, should I be smiling after reading something as sad/gripping?
In a way, it bothered me that they asked if it was based on a real experience, because it shouldn't matter at all, good writing is good writing. But I guess the emotion just came through so clearly that it 'had' to be real.

I was hesitant when my boyfriend asked me how class had gone. I wanted to tell him about the positive comments, but it seemed like showing off at the same time. So I guess I still have some self-confidence to build up, to be able to simply accept compliments.
It's probably one of the most 'Belgian' aspects of my personality, the constant tendency to put myself down, to find excuses...

"Your English is great!"
"Well, I lived in the US for a year, only normal..."

"Those pictures you took of Norway were impressive"
"Ah, yes, it's not difficult with such beautiful landscapes"

"I love your shoes"
"Oh, those, they're old ones..."

My lesson from all of this: when receiving a compliment, just smile and say thank you!

Like a cocooning cat, I am tucked away in a little box in my head, preparing myself to feel what I expect to feel. It’s 3.35 PM when the doors finally open: visiting hours in the intensive care unit for stroke patients. After waiting for 20 minutes in the dark hallway, between musty carpet-covered walls, the open and bright hospital ward blows a fresh wind through my mind.

But as I enter the room, everything I imagined crumbles. That man lying there, no, he isn’t my grandfather, he isn’t the energetic, indestructible grandfather I’ve always known.
It’s not his face looking at me blankly, looking through me as I smile awkwardly and say hello.
It’s not his body, so small in the hospital bed, so lost between the machines, tubes and wires.
It’s not his voice calling out a hollow yes every time the nurse calls his name, in a twisted game of marco polo.

The box, the snug little box inside my head is abruptly turned upside down, throwing me into a disconcerting numbness. I see my uncle turn aside to hide the tears in his eyes. I hear my grandmother’s voice tremble. I feel nothing. I’m a visitor walking into an empty room and the window is wide open.

Mondays aren't great, but it always starts on Sunday evening... Taking advantage of my last moments of freedom, knowing they're rapidly dwindling...

Tonight was worse though. I brought work home this weekend and despite saying that I would get work out of the way quickly, I didn't get started 'till this evening. Procrastination rears its ugly head again... So I spent my last hour of freedom proofreading our annual report, and (alarmingly) still finding quite a few errors in a document that has to be printed this Monday.

*sigh* Bed time now, and another weekend gone too quickly...

It seems strange that home work for a creative writing class should include 20 minutes of walking/swimming/cycling a day... Yet I guess it makes sense, a healthy mind in a healthy body and all that. And since I've really been slacking where exercise is concerned this past month, this home work came at the right time.

I just finished 52 minutes on the treadmill, 10 minutes of jogging and the rest of the time walking at a reasonable pace. Nothing overly athletic, but every bit helps To hell with procrastination and laziness!

For my creative writing class, I have to write 'morning pages':

"Morning pages are three pages of writing (long hand) anything that comes to your head.

The point to Morning Pages isn't to write incredible, novel-quality prose. The writing you do in your Morning Pages may not even be suitable for a letter to a friend! It's the little bits and pieces that run around in your head out of control. The words may not even piece together into full sentences. What you write doesn't have to make sense to any person on the face of the planet -- or even to yourself a few days later.

I compare Morning Pages to my morning shower. While I'm not visually dirty in the morning, I feel refreshed and ready for my day after taking a shower. Your shower takes care of your body. Morning Pages is a shower for your heart, mind, and soul. There's no visible "dirt," but there might be something under the surface that needs attention. Or maybe a dream or two looking for a place to land. Or maybe a list of things you want to get done during the day. Or just random thoughts that plague you like a song you can't get out of your head.

When you start doing Morning Pages, you'll be surprised at the things you find lurking within. And, just as you feel refreshed when you step out of the shower, your mind, heart, and soul will feel refreshed after writing Morning Pages. You will walk a little lighter. Your mind will be more focused on the task(s) at hand. Your thinking will be more clear. Your heart will be open -- so you may find yourself more patient or less irritated with the day's events."

At first I thought: "Oh dear, that's a lot of pages, every day. What will I write about?" But I've found that once I get going, it just flows, all my doubts, frustrations, etc. It's like a stream of consciousness that I pour onto a page. It's definitely not something meant to be shared (my bf shouldn't ever get a hold of it) but I'm curious to see whether it will prove beneficial. From the sound of it, it could even be a good idea for non-writers.