It's been snowing in phases, and all that's already there won't melt.
A Happy Christmas, too.
Tammie and Rick just got registered. She's doing good, health-wise, too.
Djuna got her new lungs this week. She's recovering splendidly :)
We had a gourmet - evening on Christmas Eve. Meaning: Lots of food. Lots of family. Lots of fun. Lots of silliness, too, mind.
Did I mention I get drunk on company?
Not a drop of alcohol in my blood, ever, and I still manage to become this hyperactive ball of random craziness. Which is okay. It's all laughter anyways.
I also got told too many times this week that I might unofficially have ADHD.
Maybe I should get that checked?
I got sick again.
Which is probably the only downside of this week.
Migraine-ish and hack-coughing and yuck.
We'd agreed that we'd all go to Church in the morning, so going to bed late on Christmas Eve probably wasn't the smartest move in the world. I think it's funny when people don't expect me going, and then I'll say that I'd like to, for company.
I sat next to Harry, Myriam (my eldest cousin)'s boyfriend, who is probably the biggest atheist in the family. I had to hold my breath so as not to laugh out loud at some of his remarks, but it was really entertaining either way. He also offered me twenty (first ten, but I scoffed at that) Euro's if I got up, went up to the microphone and told everyone that I was sorry there'd been a mistake, but really, God did not exist after all, and they could all go home.
If he'd've dared me I'd've actually done it, but I don't cave for money just as quick. (Do I have my priorities wrong?)
Either way, they "suddenly" decided to hold an improvised play, and were looking for a cast within the audience. When looking for a Maria, Harry nudged me "Go on,". And though I have at least one thing similar to that holy woman (Hint: It starts with a V) , I couldn't get my energy up to play along (sick, sick sick sick.) so Tamara got up and played Maria instead. Myriam played an angel, and when I giggled at Harry that probably all Magdelijns-girls 'd get up to play, Judith and Suzanne offered to play some of the sheep.
My commentary about not being sure whether I liked being associated family of virgins, angels, and (most importantly) sheep, was taken too well for my liking. xD
Oh! And I actually got my first Christmas present ever: A cute candle thingy that turns at the heat of the flame. Pictures later.
Also, there are too many Christmas movies on TV, it's ridiculously unhealthy.
I watched the Grinch for the first time ever, and I liked it more than I thought I would.
Next year I'll go all Scrooge-y and Grinch-y for the fun of it. :3
Reading back some posts a year ago in December made me smile.
I still think the same about loving wind-still cold days.
Where little puffs appear where you breathe and talk.
A white blanket covering .. well.. everything. :)
Snowing began really early this winter, though. Earlier even than last year.
Before last year, it was a question of whether 'real' winters would ever come again.
It would be windy, cold and wet, snow two days in February and melt again, and that was it.
I was disappointed it took me so long to graduate, fearing I might've missed any chance at snow at all. And the first winter I spent here, everything was white in December. Not just for a day or two, but for weeks, and when that melted, a few days later it would snow again. It snowed so much, actually, that it sent chaos into the lives of train-managers, people going to work, people's stuck at home or where they were at at the time (Judith and I were staying in Deventer, at my Unc's, then.. Good times. x3 )
This year, the snow started in November. Ridiculous! November!
The last week, but still!
And though there's been a few days where it all melted, it back to stay (at least until Christmas is over). For me, that means more walks in the past two weeks than the past 4 months put together. And lots of pictures. And lots of frustration at the fact that my health won't allow me even more walks. And lots of reading when I'm home-tied because I can't go out for walks. :) Hurray.
An entirely different point: I absolutely love how my previous blog post made you all put out your own opinions. I should do that more often :)
To all of you, though: It wasn't my point that it was /only/ the eyes.
It's vulnerability, innocence, prettiness.
I didn't mean cuteness in the specific sense, either.
Just somehow I can never find the time or the energy to.
I have this theory about cuteness.
About why children and puppies and kittens are cute.
Though most people already know the expression, I don't think they ever stop to think about how right they are.
It's the eyes.
Almost everything grows, elongates, lengthens, broadens, when you grow older.
Limbs stretch, noses grow, jaws broaden.. Everything but the eyes. They remain -almost- as big as they always were. Which is why they're really really big in a small face (of a baby, pup, foal.. etc), and as they "seem" smaller later on, and don't as much dominate the face anymore, the cuteness factor ebbs, and beauty remains. Or doesn't. That's not the point.
It's why seals are cute. Their faces almost only contains eyes.
Bambi? Cute because of the big brown eyes.
Why are Chibi-dolls so kawaii? Exactly. Big eyes.
Thank you for your attention.
Now my Tourrettes' urge for wanting to shout this point out can rest until it finds something else to obsess madly about.
Once upon a time, about five years ago, a tall handsome boy moved to a small cozy town, right in the street of a single, pretty girl. Once she had laid eyes on him, she knew it: This was /her/ man.
Five years later, after lots of trials, hospital visits, and a big surgery, she was proven right.
Today, they signed a contract. According to a lawyer-almost-in-the-family, a contract easily broken with a text with a certain code, but still: a magically binding contract.
A-close-to-marriage-Partnership-registration. One you can't explain without using the word "marriage", even though it isn't, really. Is this taking the romance out of things, yet? Because I'm not aiming for that. Definitely not. It was all very romantic. In the snow. Very pretty. Very cold. In a.. uhm.. positive way? Teeth chattering was just music, anyways. You just had to listen more carefully.
Tamara, who, only months ago, wasn't doing all that great, physically (Which is why they decided to do this at all, but she got her NEW LUNGS!-call just two days before the date, so they had to postpone it), and Rick. That's who this story was about. And it was wonderful to be a part of that. :)
As I have dared -- with Gryffindor nerve for I feared it's finality, Slytherin's ambitiousness for feeling the triumph of my Ravenclaw's wit with my guessed theories being almost all right, and a Hufflepuff's loyalty to the author, the books and all its characters,-- finally finished reading Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (HP7), my heart skipping and missing beats as I read, I have realized one big thing:
No books, ideas, plots will ever
bind me to it as magically as this series has.
I have never cried nor fallen in love with book characters till J. K. Rowling's Harry Potter came along.
I can't, and don't want to, shout out what I had guessed right.
I can't, and don't want to, mourn 'out loud' for (fictive) characters who didn't make it till the very end.
I can't, and don't want to, spoil it for those who still haven't read..
I probably sound loony to anyone not entirely in to the thing, and cliché to those that think /they/ are the most die-hard fans.
I didn't want it to end.
It's why I postponed reading it.
Frankly, I still haven't digested it. Haven't fully realized it.
Genuinely, I still don't want that it ended.
But it has. (In too short a time, I couldn't put the book down)
And Rowling ((with exception of that final (and rather unnecessary) 'chapter' - which did not get enough credit to be called that)) couldn't have done it any more perfectly.
Hopefully they gave this book better care filming it than they have with it's six predecessors.
They'd better, seeing as they extended the time from a rough two and a half hours to about five.. I hope it doesn't ruin it.
A month ago I typed more than 30 (33?) blog posts in a month.
And this month I barely get five posts in total.
I've been busy though. Keeping busy is a good way to get by.
Last week I've been spoiled like crazy.
I want to say "No clue why", but I do, of course.
Anyways. It felt good to be spoiled.
Got clothes as presents. Good fitting, fancy clothes.
Went to the cinema, and saw Despicable Me, and laughed my head off.
Got taken out to the Posh Neighbourhood (with capital letters) of the Hague. Fancy lunch, some shopping, and went to see the Escher Museum, before bumping into the queen. (The real queen of the country, that is, who proceeded to wave cheerfully my way before getting into her car)
And we celebrated Tamara's and Judith's birthday last weekend, and my uncle and aunt's thirtieth wedding anniversary, and both of their birthdays combined this weekend, with lots of cheese, people and laughter.
I'll just upload /some/ pictures then, shall I?
To give you a better mood impression ;) (I'm getting good at this)
The ceiling and chandeliers :0
Seriously Escher ;)
A good photographer is half the work, if I say so myself.
She's so pretty, oh so pretty~
Funny people in the yard~
That's probably the closest I'll ever get to Her Majesty.
On the other hand, some people don't get a wave from the Queen herself~
I also just came back from watching "Elle s'appellait Sarah".. Very sad.. Very good.
I think on some points, it might even be better than the book I read last week. (shock! Teh horror!)
It actually got me teary-eyed, something the book hadn't succeeded in doing.
I have something to write about (almost) every day.
And I have ten different things to talk about in five minutes.
I think about twenty different blog entries through out the day.
Without the blog challenge, the dare, the feeling I /have/ to write (for myself, I never tried completing that challenge for anyone else).. I don't write.
I delay things. I think: "I might as well write that tonight" or "I'll wait till tomorrow, I've got no energy, or inspiration today."
I'm faulty that way.
And to be very honest: It's rather annoying.
So yes, my health has been down more than up, as have my emotional and mental wellness.. I've been busy more often than not, these past few weeks.. But that's no excuse whatsoever.
If I could write when I had a sky high fever, then I can write under almost any circumstance. Given that I have something I direly need to write about, of course. This blog isn't meant for spamming. Really. xD
Also: I miss writing.
That'd be the most important reason to do it at all.
That also depends on my mood. Right now, my bed and couch are my favourite two places. I'm don't have the energy to do more than lie down. I read and type occasionally only because I'm deadbored already. Which means I am getting better, right?
My favourite place, usually, is with my friends.
Wherever I am, whether at a beach, in a mall (shock! Me hate shopping D;) or at somebody's place, or even at the computer, as long as the company is good, and I'm having a good time, the place -wherever that is- is perfect.
I'm in love with nature, so wherever I can catch a glimpse of forest, sky, or water, is a good place.
Tamara's come home, fired from hospital early for good behaviour.
And just random compliments, a possible 8-hour job, and good food.
So do I really want to think of something that makes me cry?
Well. I don't have to think too long:
Mum and my siblings going back to Egypt in a few days makes me miserable thinking about it.
Not only because I will miss them, but because I KNOW they don't want to go back.
It doesn't matter that I don't live with them in the same house anymore, but it apparently does matter a shitload if they're in the same country or not. It makes all the difference in the world. That, and that I have no idea when I'll see them again.
If they'll come here next summer or ever.. and if I'll have enough money to visit them on any kind of basis, let alone a regular one.
My eyes have been uber-dry all day, and now they're immediately teary.
Realizing I'm loved and that people care about me.
My friends and family. They make me feel better.
I try not to take anybody for granted, and most of the time, I succeed.
When I remember though, not just that they're there, but that they're there /for me/, I get this extremely bubbly cheerful feeling in the pit of my stomach.
When I get a hug, or a smile, or a genuine compliment. When I get a shoulder shoved under my face to cry on. But also, when people feel they trust /me/ enough to use my shoulder. When they come to me for help. When they value my opinion.
Is this blog challenge making me come over as this sappy, romantic love-addict?
Cause y'know.. Halloween spiders and skeletons, painting, snakes, cars, writing and horses. They make me feel better too.
Because I would, most likely, have a never ending list of all the things that hurt, annoy, anger or otherwise upset me.
I'd like to name two things that seriously upset me, though I think they're technically one, because in one way, they're linked.
1. The way some people treat others.
I live with the motto "treat others like you'd want to be treated." Just like I think changing the world means you need to start with yourself. If you don't see the point in doing it by yourself, and everybody else thinks the same thing, nobody'll ever change anything, thus it will definitely not have a point.
Where was I going with this? Oh, yes. The way people can be discriminating, harsh, or just downright rude through bluntness, which they can't find fault with and will describe only as "honesty". It annoys me. I appreciate honesty, but I can appreciate delicacy and subtlety even more. Be honest, but for heaven's sake, be kind.
2. The way people always choose their outsiders.
I've been treated as a foreigner in Egypt, but I sometimes get treated just as much as a foreigner in Holland. In Egypt, I don't mind it. In Egypt, I feel like a foreigner. In Holland, on the other hand, I feel insulted, in a way. People who don't know me, accept me as Dutch, no questions asked. It's not my language, accent, and even though I'm more of a yellow shade, my skin-colour isn't even worthy of the name "tan". It's the people who know that I've lived in Egypt, people who read my surname before meeting me, they continue to see me as an outsider for the rest of forever.
When I try making German people feel at home here, it's rather unfair that other people like treating me as if it isn't my home. I'm more bloody Dutch than the future king of the Netherlands, for heaven's sake; Willem Alexander is 3/4 German. Also: nobody ever called Marco Borsato "that Italian singer"..
Is hectic. Ramadan, doctor's visits, Tamara's lungtransplantation, hospital visits, assignments, looking for a job, socializing, and travelling across the country at least twice a week.. Forgetting my charger on the other side of the country from mere fullness of brain-chaos. Plenty to do, and I bet I haven't even mentioned half of it. Doesn't really matter, though. I bet I'll look back on it and smile. Or not. ~
It's only those two extremes you ever remember anyways, "moderate" memories are straightaway forgotten most of the time; thus stop to exist as memories at all.
I like memories pertaining friends and family.
Whether it be a vacation somewhere exploring the world, an outing, a "dish-party" like my Egyptian gang used to hold, birthday parties, new year's eves, random nice evenings just playing some game or holding some sort of discussion, and even online I have plenty of memories I cherish dearly. It'd be unfair to just choose one out of a million. Just like I can't pick just one bad memory. I have plenty of both.
I think back very fondly of hugs. And other intimacies, but hugs especially.
They make me feel warm at the mere thought.
A hug a day keeps depressions away? It helps, at any rate~
You know what's funny?
If you ask a person what their favourite colour is, they'll usually have a straight-away answer.
Favourite song? Sure, this or that.
With me, it depends on so many things.
It depends on my mood. It depends on the situation. And it (unfortunately) depends on my abominably bad memory.
"Would you want somebody else's organ if that would save your life? ... But are /you/ a donor yet?"
That's a rough translation of the slogan of the national donor-campaign here in Holland.
And I love it.
Since Tamara's transplantation, there have been three more within 9 days following her own surgery. Lianne, Wouter, and Kim M (Author of an autobiography; Ademloos -- about Cystic Fibrosis) have been lucky enough to follow in Tamara's footsteps. Some are recovering faster than others, but some surgeries took "only" 7 hours, others a total of 11 or 12. Seeing as you need a week to heal for every hour of surgery.. well, you can figure it out ;D
Tamara had been doing really well. Though sometimes slightly blue, feeling she wants to heal faster than her body is allowing her to, she has had really good peaks over the last two weeks.
All her drains have been taken out, as her catheter, a physical and mental relief, to say the least.
Since yesterday, she has even been completely oxygen-tubeless for the first time in three years or so! If she continues healing at this pace, she'll be home before her own lung-physician comes back from his vacation (he left just two days before her surgery, they kind of want to surprise him with this -- if he isn't keeping himself up to date about his patients, anyhow)
Personally, though I hate to admit it, my own health hasn't been all that much lately.
I bet it's mostly stress and worry, Ramadan, insomnia, and whatnot, but I've been hyperventilating off and on for a few weeks now, and I'm continuously exhausted, even without doing much of anything. I pass out randomly throughout the day/night, yet when I try to sleep, I'm as insomnia-ish as ever.
It didn't really register until I went to visit Tamara, and took a turn to measure my oxygen-in-blood saturation (which was 100% ;D ) and heart rate (which was almost as high as Tamara's, without doing the slightest exercise, while I usually have the lowest blood pressure ever)
Tamara made Rick type her blog entry, in which she described her own too-fast heart rate as being non-stop exhausting, and suddenly that rang my own alarm bells.
Should see my doc about that. I know.
But that's pretty much the reason I'm not up-to-date about anything but my blog challenge posts. Which are pretty difficult to keep up with in the first place..
My favourite vacation is one where culture, nature and fun activities are central.
I'm not one for lying/chillaxing at a beach somewhere, drinking till all my braincells are dead, totally ignoring the fact that the burning sun might give me skin cancer in a few short years.
If there's walking, swimming, biking or any other activity, it's already great to begin with.
If there're mountains, hills, forests, dunes, beaches there, it's even better.
If there're (reasonably affordable) museums/churches/(see the Unesco Heritage List) in the neighbourhood, it's uberly awesome.
The Seven World Wonders (Old and new, so basically there are about twenty right now) are definitely on my must-visit list. There's plenty I want to explore. Plenty I'm curious about.
As for an actual experience: I have very good memories of my vacation to Austria (Zell am See) a few years ago. The mountain walks, visiting (and climbing) the Grossglockner, seeing waterfalls in Kaprun, taking a peek at Salzburg (Mozartcity) with the birthhouse of Mozart, castle/Schloss Hellbrunn, and a lake trip with a hired speedboat. And time for reading. Good times. :)
What with hospital visits, doctor's appointments, a birthday party I just /had/ to go to in spite of everything, spending quality time with mum (I'd add, and my siblings, but I haven't seen much of them), a walk along the beach, movies watched, and general exhaustion, it's been tiring, to say the least. Tensioned. Stressful. But good in quite a few ways.
Or am I supposed to be talking about this coming week?
That's also going to be one 'helluva' week, encouriging Tamara to get her butt out of hospital in record time, and probably lots of reading, writing, researching, and more quality time with the most important woman in my life.
Oh, and I get to go choose a desk soon. And maybe some curtains.
And I'm thinking of braces. And a parttime job to fund said braces. Or I'mma have to find a spot underneath some bridge. A good spot and a good hat to collect begged money in.
Also, I thought these guidelines would make blogging easier. But I've noticed I'm quite irked by the way it tells you what to write about. Inspiration wise, it's killing.
But no, not quitting. Definitely not now I'm almost halfway.
Quite. xD It's scarily alike. If I would've gone " are Male and Female" , things would have been scarier, though. Just so you know.
Though they act quite differently, mind.
Both my brother and my sister are younger than I am.
7 and 2 years younger, respectively, to be exact.
Only a few weeks ago my brother went from "lil Bro" to being taller than I am.
I'm both proud, and happy I'm not the tallest one anymore.
My sister, on the other hand, feels quite bitter about the fact that she is the shortest.
She won't agree on or accept any of the positive terms: "Pixie/doll- like", "petite" and the fact that she's prettiest one of the three of us.
Talking about looks, apparently Sis is a copy of dad's sister when she was younger.
She's also slightly darker-skinned than the yellow-sallow paleness of Bro and me.
According to mum, I'm the female version of her younger brother. And everybody agrees Bro is the male version of me. Though blonder. Or he used to be.
Bro has got a game addiction.
Actually, he's got a liability to get obsessed over or addicted to things easily.
He's like me in that way.
Though Sis is by far the most indecisive of us three, we all take after Mum that way.
She's also a big-time Feminist. I thought I was one until she turned to the most extreme form of it. Now I rarely use the F-word anymore.
We also all share the Magdelijns-genes where it comes to intelligence, creativity and being even slightly musically inclined, seeing as it definitely doesn't come from the other side of our gene-pool.
The three of us are pro-Dutch, anti-Egyptian in most ways. Though I try looking at things objectively, and try seeing the "positive" of both sides, try combining/using the assets, Sis is quick to blame and condemn, and Bro just couldn't care less. xD
We squabble, fight and argue a lot. Actually, almost always. About anything.
We still love each other though.
PS: Yes, I used me as a comparison to talk about my siblings.
I don't know why. I never do that with friends when I talk about them, but with family I seem quite quick to compare and differentiate.
Ah, there we go again with the annoying questions.
Who made these up? Seriously.
It's like filling in my cousin Suzanne's Friendship-booklet all over again.
Best movie, favourite food, best friend, favourite song..
Does best mean that everything else ranks second, third, hundredth on that list?
What if I don't have a favourite movie, just a list of several movies I find good.
Why do I have to choose anyways? I really really don't like choosing. Especially not, and here it comes: Especially not where my friends are concerned.
They're all bloody fantastic über-awesome people, damnit, else they wouldn't deserve that "friend" title to begin with. If I do favour one above the other, what would that make of me if I'd just go ahead and and name one person, with it kind of stating everybody else sucks in comparison.
+Cough+ Did I let myself go?
I might've, a bit. Sorry. ^ ^;;
Here, then, comes a list of "best" friends. In totally random order, too.
And no, if you're not on it it doesn't mean right away I don't consider you a good friend.
Listing things means you need to put your memory at work. And my memory is by default really lazy. And yes, I'll use you're nickname, if you're using that online. And yes. It's an international list. Hurray.
♠ Johnny Vincero
♠ Jack Garret
♠ Sara Z
♠ Heba F
If I would have nothing left in the world, no home, no money, no job, no family, then those would be the people that I'd probably go to for help. Because I'm sure they wouldn't let me down.
Likewise, if they ever need anything whatsoever, I'd pretty much do everything within my power to make sure they get it.
If not, now is the time to fill in your name. (If you're capable of/allowed to donate organs, that is.)
Tamara had a rough Saturday on Sunday night, as they couldn't stop the bleeding on the Intensive Care. Apparently they had hit a small vein/artery near her heart that started leaking as soon as she got another bloodtransfusion.
So they decided it would be best to perform another surgery, after which she became reasonably stable.
Sunday morning she opened her eyes for the first time when Rick took hold of her hand, and she has been opening them more frequently and for longer periods of time ever since.
She had a slight panic attack about the intubation, I cannot imagine how horrible that thing feels.
Nurses were strict about that though. Just one or two more days, and she wouldn't risk needing to be anaesthetized to place that stupid painful tube again.
Today, they took the tube out. Since then, she's been whispering everybody's ears off when she has the energy to. :) Go Tamara!
She's also been having dreams about sheep. (? xD)
Still a few difficult weeks ahead, but she's reaching milestone after milestone with ease and grace as if it's all a piece of pie.
Hello. Is this thing on? *thump, thump, Eeeeeeeee* Guess that's a yes..
I'm Jacintha. *Murmurs of "Hello, Jacintha"* My friends call me Jess.
And uhm. I'm an alcoholic. *clapping*
Okay. Not really. I don't drink. At all. *Clapping stops* But I'm addicted to.. my friends? writing? traveling? the internet? *.. silence*
I'm half-vampire, half-gypsy, a bookworm, and unlimitedly curious.
Right now, I'm trying as hard as I can to think of something to share that people might want to know, that is both interesting for people who already know me for years, and people that are reading my blog for the very first time. And guess what? I can't think of anything. xD
But that's okay. Because I introduced myself. And I rock. 8)
So my cousin, Tamara, thought of "entering" the Blog Challenge she found on Stephanie's blog.
Me, always up for a challenge (pfft. I know, right? Hah) thought of joining her.
The idea is to blog 30 days in a row.
Fortunately you don't have to make up what to talk about every single day, there're guidelines to make everything easier.
30 days Blog Challenge:
Day 01 – Introduce yourself Day 02 – Your first love Day 03 – Your parents Day 04 – What you ate today Day 05 – Your definition of love Day 06 – Your day Day 07 – Your best friend Day 08 – A moment Day 09 – Your beliefs Day 10 – What you wore yesterday Day 11 – Your siblings Day 12 – What’s in your bag Day 13 – This week Day 14 – What you wore today Day 15 – Your dreams Day 16 – Your favourite vacation Day 17 – Your favourite memory Day 18 – Your favourite birthday Day 19 – Something you regret Day 20 – This month Day 21 – Another moment Day 22 – Something that upsets you Day 23 – Something that makes you feel better Day 24 – Something that makes you cry Day 25 – A first Day 26 – Your fears Day 27 – Your favourite place Day 28 – Something that you miss Day 29 – Your aspirations Day 30 – One last moment
Some encouragement might be needed occasionally. (Like, every day)
Last night it was a hit again: Tamara, my cousin, got a call from her transplant doctor, that they had lungs for her. They got picked up by an ambulance, raced to the hospital, whilst the lungs were checked and re-checked.
A rollercoaster of emotions: Surprise, hammering heart at the tension and stress and hope that follow. When you hear that it gets cancelled only minutes before the actual anaesthetic, because the lungs couldn't be taken out without getting severely damaged, it's a disappointment like you can't believe.
This being the second time this happens, I genuinely hope that the third time, will be:
Something weird struck me today, and I don't know if I can quite explain it.
I've said this before, and I'll say it again, I will always find it odd and a tad hypocritical if a guy will get jealous when his girlfriend kisses another guy, but will be okay with the fact (he might even like it) when the same girlfriend was to kiss another girl.
A girl, when dumped for another guy, will still feel it was her fault, her wrong-doing, not his gay-ness. A guy doesn't complicate things: If she falls for girls, that's just his tough luck.
Maybe women should start the "it's simple" technique. Makes life easier.
It was a deeper, longer analysis than the summary I've typed here. I just feel exhausted now, which is why this is the short version.
I don't even know what triggered it. Maybe I don't really want to know.
Felicitations are in the air. A lot of people are being congratulated on passing, ie. succeeding for their year's exams. I, for one, passed this period with a mingled feeling of gratitude for not sitting for any exams whatsoever this year, nostalgia over when I used to think exam-stress was the most awful thing ever (think I'm over that, now), and an obsessive anxiety about next year.
To be more specific, I have a "What the hell did I get myself into this time?" kind of feeling.
Anyways: Congratulations! to all those who passed, Good luck! to all those still busy with exams and projects, and uhm.. Hi! To all those who fall in neither category.
* Been in 8 different trams, 2 different buses, and 4 different trams
* Watched 4 different movies.
* Been to a new province. (Flevoland- never been there before)
* Ate white chocolate (in a mix) and actually liked it.
* Saw 4 movies.
* Had tacos, chives and a semi-professional massage for the first time in my life.
* Sung in public transportation.
I've been noticing that ever since I moved back to Holland, I've been having "First time tries" of everything. It's kind of unsettling how quickly I got used to the "Oh, I've never tried that before.. Well, exciting, here goes.." and over the "Should I..?" hesitation.
I got gutsier. And apparently sharper. Definitely harder. Maybe wittier.
It's interesting to compare this me to the me a year ago. Or even better, three or four years ago.
Any person living in Holland will have been able to tell you what the news has been about in the last couple of weeks, even if they themselves consistently avoided knowing about it. This is only because it's been everywhere; Newspapers, internet, radio, television, mouth-to-ear communication, and whatever other kind I am forgetting.
* Politics, and the elections.
* Holland's football team going to South Africa (World Cup News)
* Joran van der Sloot, infamous murderer/pimp/pokerplayer/drug dealer/messed up person who got caught in Peru.
And make the weirdest crunching noise whenever you move..
Though it doesn't hurt as much as it sounds (or maybe I really am getting used to pain so much I don't really wince anymore?), it's only hell trying to walk up or down stairs.
Happy happy joy joy.
I saw three movies this month. Or to be more accurate, in the last ten days.
The most awesome of the three was definitely Prince of Persia: The Sands Of Time. Maybe because of the game -anyone saying the movie wasn't influenced by the game is a big fat liar-, and it's partly the actors too. Though a bit predictable, it had tres funny moments. And it was very pretty; effects and scenes alike.
Robin Hood was good. Powerful. Fighting for what they believed in, no matter what. "Rise, and rise again, till lambs become lions." It's one of those quotes I'll have a hard time forgetting. Not that I'm trying, mind.
Centurion is the one I'm torn about. It had some good 300-like blood spatter, but overall the scenes were very much alike throughout the movie, and it had this grey-ish shade to it. Maybe it was because not all the actors were very convincing, though there were some very good ones.
Now I'm probably stuck at home for a week.
Which is okay. Maybe I should start dowloading some of the I-need-to-see movies and watch those. Or I could always start finishing reading the books I borrowed from friends and family.
At some point last week we spent some time youtubing kids. Or rather, youtubing things we could laugh at/about. I know, it sounds mean. Well, it kind of is. But still. So much fun. The best ones were dutch, though. So there's no point in me posting those here. Enjoy.