I really should be studying

As I type this, I'm listening to Tiffany "I think we're alone now" on the radio, followed by Wet Wet Wet "Angel eyes." It makes me giggle when I hear bands like Wet Wet Wet and the Proclaimers abroad. They're lucky if they're given any air-time at all back home. But, as a Lespat (expat lesbot), I have to admit that it's fun listening to them. Fond, *ahem* memories come flooding back of monstrous shoulder pads, excessive use of hairspray, side ponytails, and neon leggings. Ah, those were the days...

So, the lessons are going well. I've already been able to use some Dutch in a real, live situation! Well, I said 'spreekt u Engels?' That still counts in my books. The group dynamics are unfolding now that the general initial anxiety appears to be waning. Everyone realises that mistakes are inevitable. Today is our fourth class, already some people will have decided who they like and dislike, and others have begun to define their role within the group. We have one or two who could go against the grain of the group. This week should be entertaining...

Change the channel

In an attempt to improve my Dutch, I've decided to ditch BBC Radio 1 this week and to fully embrace Belgian radio instead.

Scanning through the channels, I've just heard the following groups - Chumba Wumba, Michael Jackson, Survivor, The Proclaimers, Meatloaf and of course the obligatory pop song.

Minus the former, I'm happy that I'm not in Kansas anymore. Where else can you listen unashamedly to such a dolly-mixture of tunes?

Repeat after me...

Some things haven't changed. I hit the snooze button at least 3 times this morning before I finally got up. I once thought that my problem of struggling to get up in the morning was down to the fact that I was using my radiating cell phone as my alarm, so, I bought this instead.


I can vouch that the flying alarm clock definitely wakens you. Once you've gotten over the shock of hearing the *sonic boom* type noise first thing in the morning, convinced yourself that you're just having palpitations and not a cardiac arrest, then, then, you can test how good your motor skills are at getting the spinning top back into the unit Krypton Factor style. Sound like fun? I think I should try a sun lamp, or the radio, or just some plain old jumping out of bed quickly, or...

After faffing around this morning, I headed out to my first Dutch class. Now, as a foreigner, I'm thinking I missed something today. Is March 13th 'leave your bike upside down in random places day?'

Only a few streets later, I stumbled on the floating van ;-)

Dutch class was fun and challenging already, and it's only my first lesson *meep*. There are about 16 non-Belgies in the class, which is more than I was expecting for this time of year. There's a really good mix of nationalities, and it would appear that I'm the only one from the land of skirted men and Irn Bru.

After taking the register, which, I think I've managed to register under someone else's name...we got stuck into pronunciation. Going round the class it was obvious which people weren't happy about being asked to speak out loud in another language. The first wee test that wee had was dictation. I didn't do too badly on the first round, and I missed out one answer on the second round. After finishing the dictation, each of us had to write an answer on the board. Just my luck then that my turn worked out to be the answer that I'd missed! Typical!

- I walked up to the whiteboard and wrote down attempt number 1 - Hoost.
- Teacher: "Nee. Ik zei *hoist*" (that's what I heard)
- I wrote attempt number 2 -Hoist.
- Teacher: "Nee. Ik zei *hoost*"
- I scrubbed out all previous attempts.
- Teacher: "Nee. Ik zei *houst*"
- I wrote houst.
- Jo: "Ok, help me out here " *blank expression on face*. I scrubbed out spaces for the vowels and leave H__ST on the board.
- Teacher: "Ok, boek. Ik zei *hoest*"
- Epiphany.

I couldn't stop laughing, no matter how many times the teacher repeated the word, I just couldn't get it.

No entry

I spotted this warning sticker on the plane to Austria:

Just in case you had any ideas of clambering in!

My last day of ignorant bliss.

I have a chocolate waffle in one hand, a large cawfee in the other, a large box of Errrol Grrrrey in the kitchen and Radio 1 on the tinternet. I'm and expat in Belgium - woohoo!

I've managed to unpack some of my stuff, but Sarah's spare room still looks like a bomb has gone off. I'm thinking that will be a work in progress...

One of the conditions of me moving over was that I wanted to take an intensive language course before I started my new job. So, from tomorrow onwards, I will have no excuses for not understanding the lingo. I'm just hoping that my old habits of leaving homework to the very last minute and Pro-Plus aided all-nighters wont come creeping back.

No more batting my eye lashes at Sarah and asking her to order things for me. No more laughing at some of Sarah's pronunciations in English, the shoe is on the other foot ;-), and I've been forewarned that Sarah is going to take full advantage of this role change!

Roight, I'm off out to get a continental pencil case, how exciting!

Destination Belgium

On Sunday morning, fresh without any signs of a hangover, Sarah and I began packing her car and clearing out the last remaining contents of my house. It took us approx an hour to get everything into the car and to get the bikes and the rack on. Everything was going smoothly until I ventured upstairs to double check a few things in my "important documents" folder.

Going through the files, it was gradually dawning on me that my passport wasn't in its place. Shit! I double checked again. Still, no passport. Bugger!

It had to be in the car some where?? Now, I'm a wee bit obsessive when it comes to strapping bikes on cars. Better to be safe than sorry eh. The rack was so heavy with the bikes on it, and it would take way too long to remove them again, so we had to pull things out through the front of the car. Joy.





It wasn't until half the contents of the car were on the pavement, along with the hair that I was pulling out, that I discovered my passport in between some books. Oops. Sarah has the patience of a saint!

After this, I have to say that my central nervous system was on red alert. I was convinced that I was going to be doomed to a journey of endless looking in the rear mirror to check that the bikes were ok. After eyeballing the bikes for the 356th time, and reassuring myself that the 80mph winds weren't due for another 8 hours, I managed to relax and enjoy the ride with my girrel.

We made it into Belgium in good time and with the bikes still attached! Here are some pics from York and the move:

The River Ouse.

Breakfast at Betty's. Regardless of the weather, there's always a queue outside.

Where do I start?

Getting on the Tunnel.

After about 4 attempts and missing the actual Belgium sign, this was the best I could do!

My welcome home courtesy of my girrel.

Koffiepauze

I've taken a quick break from my *cough* cleaning duties. My broadband will be disconnected over the weekend so I thought I'd get a quick blog in, just in case.

The prep is going really well today. I now have 1 room that is completely finished, got the pegs removed off my BMX, and I'm just about to pop out to get a copy of my medical records...a women's work is never done!

Sarah is driving over tonight. There's a "last night in York" planned for Saturday with all of my friends, and then we're both driving back on Sunday.

The question is - will all of my stuff fit in Sarah's car??? MEEP!!!

This is really sad, but I've just discovered this Flash product that's like a sponge that removes marks from your walls, it's amazing. Saved me having to get the paint out lol! I need a life.

How clean is your oven? How calloused are your hands?!

I had my last hair cut in York today. Decided to go for something a wee bit different in celebration of my new start. Not dramatically different, more of a wee revision let's say. Now, I don't look like the kind of girrel who'd appreciate a fluffy-hairdo. So why is it that ALL the stylists that I've ever had feel compelled to totally waste their time doing the whole flippy-floppy-fluffy-feathered-owl with 4 wings- type finish?! It always looks so ridiculous and not me. Some times I think they just do it for a laugh. I would too if I were them.

After haircut 100, I headed back to start with my chores, which was a complete struggle. I managed to pack up the kitchen. Well, when I say pack up, I mean that I took everything out of the cupboards and stuck them on the work top or in some bags on the floor. I seriously lost the will to live! I had to head downtown again to escape for a wee skive.

Tonight I've just been defrosting the freezer and cleaning the oven, oh the joys. Some friends rang me during the latter and asked what I was up to, to which I replied, "at this moment, I'm cleaning the oven." On all 3 instances this declaration of domesticity was met with a burst of laughter and the retorts - "Does the oven need cleaning??? You surely haven't used it that often???" To which I replied, "Well, it's quite impressive the damage you can do with an overcooked sweet potato!"

My thought for today - Brillo pads are totally under rated!

My arse...

...is wet! Hold on, let me explain ;-)

My sofa left the building today. So I'm having to make do with no major furniture left in the house. I've been sleeping on the floor for the past week, and surprisingly it actually hasn't been that bad. That is, until tonight!

I've had the carpets professionally cleaned, but they're still wet. As I type this, I'm slightly concerned that I may get an electrical shock from my laptop that's sitting on the floor, so I'll keep this short.

To protect myself from further wetness, I've decided to perch upon a waterproof jkt. I'm cursing myself for taking my favourite red leather chair home to Dad's this weekend. Ah well...

Just in case anyone's worried - the cleaning is going really well considering I'm great at procrastinating. Tomorrow is kitchen day and I have a date with "Mr Muscle."

I'm now eating chocolate, goodnight!

P.S. I think Sarah is running a wager on how many new stains I put in the carpet before Sunday, if anyone is looking to make a quick buck!

Monday swan song

Whilst wandering downtown for my morning fix, it suddenly dawned on me that today is my last Monday in York.

The last time I had to visit the dreadful Tesco for a "big shop."

The last time that I'd put my wheelie bin in the shed.

And, unfortunately, the last Monday that the old guy in the spinning class would flash his hairy nipple at me!

New arrival in Belgium

I'll keep this post brief. After much consideration, Sarah and I have decided to try for a baby.

Only kidding lol! I'm moving to Belgium next month - WOOHOO! Or as the locals would say "de max!" The land of Sarah, high cadence cycling, chocolate and fantastic beers...not to mention the waffles.

Must dash, today is my "if in doubt, chuck it out" day. This now clears the way for Sarah to blog, over to you babe...

Continentals know how to serve coffee. I popped into a cafe in Gent that I've been meaning to go to for ages. Having eyed up the slab of chocolate brownie in the display, I was pleasantly surprised to see that I'd receive a small square with my coffee. 3 more cups and I'll have a full slice. Wishful thinking, I was given apple cake with my next coffee :-(. Another incentive to improve mijn Nederlands.

Frisky ferrets

On enquiring how a friend's weekend away with a crush was going, I received the following reply:

"The badger is in the sett. I repeat, the badger is in the sett (that's code) ;-) x"

I heart u

I've just been going through my pics and found this one that I took when Sarah and I were in Paris in December. We had to find a cafe because it was absolutely lashing down with rain.

Whilst I was getting stuck in to my hot chocolate avec loads of cream, I noticed this -


Disclaimer: This entry has been published to emphasise the point that I am indeed the romantic one of us two *wink*

Better late than never

I haven't been able to make it home due to the weather. Unfort no snow in York :-(. But Pops has come up trumps and has sent the charger for my camera. So, without further ado, here are some piccies from my bday w/end

This is what greeted me when I got home *grin*

The man with all the dance moves!

The best birthday cake in the worrreeld - ever!

It kinda scares me that Sarah said there was an uncanny resemblance...

White stuff

*Crosses fingers and toes* Please, please, please let it snow in York tomorrow!

I hope, *concentrates really hard* that when I wake up tomorrow, there will be a white out and the snow will last longer than 1 hour and 12 minutes!

Now, where did I put my sledge and snow shoes...

*grin*

Breast aware

I had an appointment today at the breast clinic to have my breasts checked. Breast awareness - I'm being serious now so no rude comments please - is very important to me.

My Mum was diagnosed with breast cancer when she was 37. Both my parents knew from the start that the odds were stacked against Mum's survival. Fortunately for us, she had the most incredible character to keep us all going through the 2 years that followed her diagnosis. She passed away when she was 39.

En route to the hospital, I saw my Mum's hands driving the car when I looked down at the steering wheel. Trips like today, always make me wonder what it must have been like for her, and many other women in the same situation. I can only begin to imagine.

Mum's strength of character was the absolute back bone to keeping us all on track. Looking back on those times, I'm in complete awe of her.

She would play games with my brother and I. I always thought it was silly and dull because the main game she'd play with us was called "let's pretend Mum's not here." She named it, not us, she had a sick sense of humour.

I hated it because it involved me having to do the ironing while she lay down on the couch, ordering the odd cup of tea here and there. To which my retort was, "I can't make tea for Mum if we're pretending she's not here!" She gave me the look, half giggling. You never mess with "the look."

I'm lucky to have the warmest memories of her, and her sense of humour. After some surgery, she applied for a disabled badge for the car. Her argument being that she couldn't walk very far with the groceries. But in reality, she was vying for the best parking spots for shopping in the city. She got the badge.

When asked how she was feeling after her mastectomy, her response was "I feel like I've gotten a lot off my chest!"

Medicine has advanced in the 19 years since Mum was diagnosed. But I feel that I have to take control. I'm not satisfied waiting until my 50th birthday for my breast screening. I want to be in the system, being checked. By taking action, it makes me feel like I'm armed. I want to do everything in my power, every preventative measure, to give me the chance that wasn't available to my Mum. I owe it to us both.

State of arousal

My sockets huddle around my eyeballs. I can't sleep. Again. Staring past the unnatural glow from my computer and overhead light, I can see that I'm the only one "up."

I can hear birds already outside, but I find their sound more comforting after 3am. There's a freshness surrounding their warm sound of the new dawn. This is the sound that I find most soothing. Coated in honey and soft morning dew. Each song drips medicinally into me and lulls me off to my speculating slumber.

2:59 am

My head is on my pillow
But I wish it was on you.
Taking in the softness of your silhouette,
And being sedated by your heartbeat.

I count sheep cos I cannae sleep

I've not been able to fall asleep easily the past couple of weeks. Strangely, I haven't been overly tired through the day. I've been trying a number of methods to induce sleep - Duvel, hot chocolate, gym...herbal remedies, etc, etc. Sarah recommended some good novels for me to get lost in. So I started the Da Vinci Code last night. 80 pages later and it was 2am.

I'd been asleep for only an hour, when I was awakened by my neighbours un-rythmic sex. This isn't the first time it's happened (actually, it's only the second, in say, 6 months, bless). Really, if you're going to get down to it and waken me at 3-fricken-am, at least give me something to listen to! At least then I could understand why they felt compelled to get it on, if, it sounded like fun. I really had to stop myself from going outside in my pjs and shouting through their letter box "IS IT REALLY WORTH IT?!?! SOME OF US ARE TRYING REALLY, REALLY HARD TO SLEEP HERE!!!!"


Anyways, back to the lack of sleep and strange behaviour. For someone who has the ability to delay the inevitable, I've been tackling quite a lot of tasks. Some through out the day and some, oddly at night. The other evening, well, I say evening but it was around 1.30am, I'm playing table tennis with my thoughts and decided that it would be a good idea to clear down my inbox. Not only that, I decided that I would categorise and give myself folders. 52 pages later, and I had an inbox that consisted only of those items that needed action. Believe me when I say that I'm in deep, deep, DEEP shock!

Is it possible that I'm actually trying to procrastinate on my sleep???