Don't ever let your mind stop you from having a good time

Hello hello !

It's been verrrrry long since I have last written here, and I really am sorry. The good news is that I have plenty of things to tell now! I've had plenty of internships lately, and then my awesome friend V came and visited me and we had a great week together in Brussels, partying and visiting and sleeping a lot too, I must admit, and now I am back in Colmar for two weeks holidays before.... oh before something, reader, if you knew :) (Only you probably do, since 5/6th of my readership is part of my family) --I promise I'll tell you, only I need to figure out something, like, really good.

Anyway, I've been going all over Belgium, one city a day for the past few weeks, and it was great. I want to Ostende (internship) and to Blankenberge (for fun !), both of which are on the Belgian coast, which is always nice (I've got a thing with the sea. No matter how ugly the coast might be, if you turn your back to the land and watch the far-dom, it's always, always a nice feeling. Also I like to play in the sand and bury my feet in it and write stuff in it with my fingers and look at the shellfish, and then when I get bored with the silly stuff, it makes me want to lay flat on my back and wait forever. It's a feeling I get a lot, lately, I must say. The urge to lay flat on my back and wait. But then I get bored with that too, get up and go eat some free-trade chocolate.

I also made a stop in Marchienne au Pont, on an intership, before Blankenberge and the fun part started. Whatever you do, in your life, wherever life brings you, I would recommend that you avoid Marchienne au pont on a friday night at 7 p.m. It is probably the most depressing place on earth, even on a bright sunday morning at the beginning of spring, but on a rainy evening, when it's just getting dark (you know that particular twilight light that makes everything look a little bit dirty) it is really very depressing. Go to Blankenberge instead. Avoid Marchienne au Pont.

Anyway. I also wanted to tell you about another thing which is very nice to do on the beach, and that is listening to I'm Yours, by Jason Mraz, sharing headphones with your best friend. We went to see him live with V and our friend A (who was a perfect hostess and provided Cecemel for all) last tuesday, and it was just brilliant. Really really nice. The first part of the concert was Marit Larsen (if you don't know her, she's made a very fast and amazing climb on my "The people I'd like to be if I wasn't me" list, check her out on YouTube, it's really nice and very very sweet. Maybe too much so if you're not in the mood, but still).

And then the second part of the concert was Jason Mraz, I already told you about him, and I must once again thank my german friend A (hey A! Haven't talked to you in forever! I hope you're doing good!) for making me aware of how great he was, and I don't just mean "I'm Yours", though it is the best song ever written (This week. Might change soon. But this week it definitely is. Honestly, who can resist I'm Yours? It's so nice! It's nice and pretty and it makes you want to smile. I love that song.)

Well, that's basically the news from me, back in Colmar. I promise that I'll try to write a little more regularly over the newt few days (probably going to happen since I have to work on my thesis (also called "*shout curses* bloody paper from hell *shout curses again*", but don't tell anyone I said that))

I have to go now, shopping time, but have a really nice day. And here's to V for coming to Belgium to visit me even though she'd already been there and for being awesome and taking cool pictures that I can put on my blog.

Spread love ! (what do you mean, "stop that hippie crap, Claire, the concert's been over for a week now"? Go pick some flowers and bake cookies, and don't be so cynical.)

Follow the light

Hi Reader! I have not been here in quite a long time, but I am back today for a top five, the top five things that kept me away from thinking about my beloved blog lately. It also goes under the name of "top five worries in our hero's rivetting life" (I guess maybe I'll change my blog's name. "Our Hero's Rivetting Life" sounds much classier than "Bloody Blunder", you have to admit.)

Anyway. Back to business.

1) The Prom Ball. Hell yeah ! XD
I get to go to a prom ball this year, for the first time of my life, though it is my last year at the university if all goes well. Only
a) I don't have a ticket yet and the pre-sales are over

b) No one has asked me "are you going to the ball" looking excited that I might be there, and I don't mean a guy, I mean any kind of person. (I did ask that very same question to everyone I met before even sayinig "hi", without giving them the slightest chance to ask first.. I think I'm the only one for whom that ball's such an issue. The others have been spoilt by too many balls, and are completely blasé).
Besides, good news, I was invited to the pre-ball party today. Not quite officially, but still. I can officially crash. You won't know what's coming, pre-ball party-ers !

c) I'm not so sure about my dress anymore. It's a kind of Indian thingy which looks really nice, but I'm afraid that it will look weird, and I already look weird enough with my six feet on the dance floor. And I mean six feet as in the size. I have the right number of feet at the ends of my legs, thank you very much.

d) I have the strange impression that I sound like a stupid high-school sophomore (throwing hysterics about how she deosn't have a daaaaaaayyyyte and how her dress looks all wrooooong). Do I really? Yes I do.

2. Next year. As I mentionned, this is my last year at the university (if all goes as planned, which is not guaranteed. Do not kill the bear before selling its skin. No wait. Do not skin the bull without selling a cart. Crap. You see what I mean, I'm sure.)

I am worried about not finding a job and not knowing what to do. But I'm sure things will work out. German's said to be a very good weapon on the interpreter's job market. German's a very good weapon anywhere, if you ask me, it nearly killed me more than once.

3. Becoming an interpreter. I'm training to be an interpreter. I love being an interpreter. It's a brilliant job, the most entertaining in the whole world, if you ask me, and you get to speak a lot. I like speaking. But mostly I like learning things everyday and knowing a little something about everything. So I am not worried about the "will I like my working life" part.
I am however worried about the atmosphere and the people. Most of the professionals I have met up till now were all extremely serious and professional and impressive. I feel very much not up to the standards.

4. Writing my final paper. It's supposed to be like a trillion pages, and I have not gotten properly started yet (and by that, I mean that I got kicked out of the office of the person I was supposed to gather most of my info from). I have a plan, though. A scheme. Ideas and documents and contacts. But will I ever really get around to writing anything worth reading?
Let us hope I will. If I don't, I'll write a little poem instead of the introduction, and tap-dance at the oral examination. (Is that not a brilliant failsafe plan?)

5. Other stuff. Lots of other stuff. Some things are not worries but puzzlement, anticipation, excitement, patience, doom, and generally sensing a revolution in the air.

Whish me luck, reader! And have a good evening. Do tell me about how you felt at the end of your studies too. Maybe with your help I can decide how I feel at the end of mine ;)

Ode to joy

I spent the summer in a crap-town

Called Saarbrücken in Deutschland
I've been bored and I've been broodin'

From June up to homecomin'

I lived with ugly slugs

My room was full of bugs

I hated life, I wanted home
Drank vodka out of mugs

But one mornin', came a'rollin'

Straight from heaven

Tanned and dashin'

The Bus Seventy-Seven !

Oh, bus driver, my bus driver,

I'll never forget thee

You were the sunshine of my summer

But d'you remember me ?

I've seen you once, I've seen you twice

And then you disappeared,

"Timetable change" was my demise

It shouldn't have interfered

If I could've, then I would've

Looked into your eyes

But you were looking at the road

Which probably saved my life

And each mornin' I sat waitin'

Dressed up to the nines

For you to come a'rollin'

In that big bus of thine

OOOOH, bus driver, my bus driver,

I'll never forget thee,

I wish all other drivers

Would be so nice to me !

<3

PS : Dear reader, I hope you enjoy this magnificent bit of high-profile poetry. I've just had a brilliant week-end with my sisters, and I'm in a great mood. Here's to you, F and M !

Mmm mmm mmm mmm

(That's a song, by the way. Crash Test Dummies, as I'm sure you'll have guessed)


Anyway. I have been, once again, reading that blog, which has been recommanded to me by my sister M, and now I want to eat this, more than anything. I want to eat this when it's still nice and warm, and I want to bake it before, and I want to smell the smell of the hot chocolate in the pan, and I want to smell the smell of the butter melting, and then I want to feel the icing under the knife, and then I want to eat the cake. Eat the Cake. Eat the Cake ! Eaaaaat the caaaaake ! It has replaced all other ambitions. It has become my purpose in life, and my sole obsession. My quest.

But apart from that, I'm OK.

So since I don't have chocolat, or butter, or sugar, or pecan nuts or vanilla, or eggs (in fact, all I have is a pack of flour, and a longing heart) I figured I'd come here and tell you about the cake of my dreams. Some day, I'll go buy some groceries, and that day, reader, I shall be avenged.

Right now, I'm trying to fight off bankruptcy and overweight (why not kill two birds with one stone, after all, let my being broke have a silver lining !), but soon enough... soon enough... I'll go to the Delhaize Express downstairs, and buy all the ingredients. And when that happens, I will take pictures and post them here.

But apart from that, I'm OK.

Have a nice day, reader, and forgive that silly post !

If there's a rocket tie me to it

Is that not a brilliant song title, reader ?

Well, well, reader, it's late again, and I can't sleep again, and I don't know why ! No green tea today, nothing that could possibly explain why I'm more awake now than I was this morning during my German class. I reached a new German-class low today, and got my teacher to say that I annoyed him. I would try and be a smart-ass and say that's what I was going for, but I must admit, it would not be true.

I was drenched in cold sweat and praying to make it out of the room alive, and then I forgot all about declination and grammar. And the teacher actually said "it is really getting on my nerves." In so many words (only in German). I do believe I had managed to convince some teachers that I was a hopeless case (with the cunning use of swedish verbs and a completely radom declination system) ... I remember one in Graz, who had told me my grammar was as bad as my vocabulary, and that she really did not see what she could do for me... But never had I in fact managed to make them personnally feel annoyed. (Hey ! My very first auto-link to the single most self-pitying post in the history of this blog !)

But honestly, though, it did not bring me down too terribly, since I really felt that I had done a good job in the simultaneous translation that we had done moments before, and since I knew I had done a very bad job while he was listening to me.

Somehow, when I feel I've done a good job, I'm never the one that we listen to, and today, as I was even considering offering my candidacy for the correction, we realised that the booths had a problem and our speech had not been recorded...

It's funny, because yesterday I was all alone in class, since my two classmates had an internship, and once again, I had no chance of escaping the scrutinous ear of my teachers... that's when my stupid brain decided it was time to launch into one of those great ocular migraine crap sessions, where you can't focus and see bright flowers all around and get tingles in your cheeks. Let me tell you I had a great time convincing them I was not on cocaine. ("No, it's like a migraine, only it doesn't hurt, and it makes me see things... and sometimes I get all.. allif... afuse... acon... a little ! confused ! With ! Wordjjjz !")

Anyway. Apart from that, there is not much to say of my life in Brussels, it's been dreadfully dull lately, and I've been spending a lot of time watching movies. I have watched one today, in fact, called Dor, it's an indian movie, and it's brilliant, but the subtitles are only available in English.

So I figured, Claire, my dear (yeah, I call myself my dear, especially when I have annoyed my German teacher, and when I'm out of chocolate), why don't you translate them yourself, so that your French-speaking friends can watch it too... So I downloaded a sub-titling (sub-titleing?) programme. Then I spent about three quarters of an hour trying to work on the first three minutes of an episode of Dr Who (I was just training. Don't sigh. I'm not watching the whole series all over again a third time. At least not this month ^^).

Of course, I did not get very very far, but you never know, maybe tomorrow !

In the meantime, reader, good night, sweet dreams, and à bientôt.

PS: Here's to my sister M who also had a headache today. Hope you're feeling better !!

Keep myself awake...

Hi reader ! Good morning ! It's eleven past five a.m. here in Brussels, and I have been struggling to get to sleep for hours, and I still can't, so I figured I'd come and tell you some stuff about what I did lately !

I've not been writing very regularly recently, somehow, because I've had quite a lot of internships (Ha ha ha. Who am I kidding ? I've been doing a lot of nothing, watching series all the time and reading the Twilight books. Much as I hate to admit it here in public, they are quite good, and really badly addictive. I just wish she would stop talking about his "muscular chest" and how he "looks like an angel". Because it makes me laugh, and it spoils the mood. Oh ! And I've also been reading this blog which has proven to be addictive too, and then I had used up all my daily screen time and had none left to come here and tell you my opinion about everything...)

But still, I've had a lot of internships, a "fake" one at the Council of Europe in Strasbourg (which was really cool, because it was an internship in a prestigious European institution, but I still felt a little like I was on holidays because I could go on seeing my French friends and family), a magic one in The Hague, which was as cool as they get, mostly because of the Shakespeare-quoting Irishman for whom we got to work and the fact that we generally had a lot of fun, while it was still interesting and possible to follow and well-organized. Please, hire me again, people !

And then today, I had another one (a fateful one, should I say), in Brussels, for my own school, which had organized a "Chinese New Year" event.

As you might have guessed, I was the interpreter for the "tea" workshop, and have been, therefore, drinking Oolong, Pu-er and other weirdly-named beverages for pretty much 7 hours non stop, and now I am hyper. High on caffeine. Oh, and I also had a double espresso on my way home at around 7 p.m. because I was feeling a little sick and wanted to sit down some place warm before actually going to bed.

Good idea, Einstein.

But the workshop was really interesting, I learnt plenty of stuff about tea, actually enjoyed a cup of tea without sugar in it, and it was all very lovely. Also I liked the way there were some complete ignoramus (ha ha ha, ignoramus... that's why I like dictionnaries so much...) on the one hand, and some very educated people trying to do things by the rule on the other...

The lady who presented her rare and precious teas, and said things like "smell the herbal and flowery flavour that stays in your mouth as an aftertaste" or "it is very herbaceous". She was handing a little pot with the wet leaves in it for us to smell, and to compare and indeed, even though I am not one for warming up the cups before pouring the tea (what difference could it possibly make, honestly), they did all smell a little different... and the temperature too ! It actually made a difference ! I was beginning to see things ! I had entered the Matrix (or whatever)!

And then a weird old man said "OOOOH ! CA SENT LES EPINARDS" very very loud. So the tea-woman looked at me with question marks in her eyes, so I felt I had to translate... "he says it smells like spinach," I said, and I was very subdued... and then he went on to say "yesss, spinage, spinage, it's comme les spinage, ha ha ha" and she was all confused and not a little annoyed.

He he he. I do love that future job of mine.

Have a nice day, reader !

J'ai dix ans...

Hi Reader !

I've been going to the movies on a near-daily basis recently, and yesterday was the turn of "Inkheart", with Paauuuuuuul Bettany.

Paul Bettany, as I might have mentionned before here, is my favourite actor in the whole world. Inkheart, however... how can I put it...

It was part of thoses movies I've seen recently that should have come out years ago. That includes 300 (that should have come out some time around when the movie is supposed to be set, whenever that is (I don't know what it is about BC dates, I don't have any frame of reference, so I won't even venture a guess)) (crap, double brackets ! I'm getting bracket-madness again !), Twilight (which should have come out when I was 13... That would have driven me literally crazy) and some other movies as well.
In fact, now that I come to think of it, if I ever have children, I'll turn them into Paul Bettany fans. I'll brainwash them. I'll call them Paul and Paula (if there are more than two, then I'll add numbers), and when they'll be 5, I'll make them watch Inkheart (though it was not very good, it might seem cool to a five year old).

Then when they turn 12, I'll show them A Knight's Tale, and that will win them over forever.

Then when the Pauls get to 14 or 15 and become completely lame, I'll show them Firewall, I bet they'll find it awesome. Besides, they will like the fact that Han Solo's in it too (yeah, because I'll make them be fans of Star Wars as well !!)

When the Paulas get 16, and they get sweet and cute (yeah, you know how it goes, girls get cute and sweet, boys get lame and stop talking for 6 years). (OK, that about the girls getting cute and sweet was such a blatent lie I won't even try to defend myself. When we turn 14 or 15 we become extremely evil, and start talking non stop in order to fill in the terrible and dreadful void left by the male's trying out sub-sonic level whale language...) Aaaaanyway. When the Paulas get 16, I'll show them Wimbledon, and we'll have ice-cream evenings, dreaming about being 4 feet tall, like Kirsten Dunst, so that we can have the same height ratio, because they're such a cute couple.

Then when they all get rebellious and grungy, I'll fight with them over Dogville and say it's a very sucky movie, and they'll claim it's actually very good, just to annoy me (it is a very bad movie, but I won't go on with the rants, I've gotten angry too many times this year, and you already know my opinion about Dogville !)

Anyway. I'm going to go away now, because I'm dead tired and a second episode of Bones has just started (It's a pretty cool series, that one !), so I guess I'll watch it and try to keep my brain from running through my ears... Not an easy task that one, I can tell you ! Have a good evening !!