Vids

Quick little update, we went on a trip on Sunday to the Wirral, a peninsula off the 'coast' of Liverpool. The river Mersey divides us into two so to speak. Anyway, we want to see a couple of art galleries and some nice countryside. Here a little video of an unexpected pleasure in the Lady Lever Gallery when we stumbled upon a Christmas Concert right in the middle of the gallery:



And this is just for fun really, a Liverpool band who are making it in England with their single 'Let's dance to Joy Division' (Which is still very popular in Liverpool actually) and the first line is the material line really haha

Coolness

Figures, first a week of utter boredom, and then this! Loads and Loads have happened in the past couple of days. I will elaborate further, however; bear with me because there was an after show houseparty last night and suffice it to say, I arrived home at 9 o' clock. 9 am that is...am not the freshest, brightest person on the planet this afternoon.

So, it all started this Monday. Usually on Mondays, me and a couple of friends hold a poetry club in a cafe called Mello Mello. This Monday there was an organised Poetry Reading/Open Mic night at the Egg cafe, another fabulous gem in Liverpool. As you might know, I follow a Creative Writing course in poetry this semester, and my fellow student-poet Paddy read in the Egg last month. This time the Poetry club and some of the Creative writing gang decided to come to the reading. And I decided, to use a Dutchism, to 'put on my naughty shoes' and read a few of my poems too! It was dead exciting, to stand in front of a pretty large audience in the spotlight and read two of my poems among other poets who had clearly been writing a lot more professional than I have been. It went really well and I loved it.

Now this little performance was partly because I wanted to see how my writing connected with a 'real' audience, but partly too because on Tuesday the next day I was set to preform with 5 other guys in the Drama society's interpretation of 'Whose line is it anyway'. By reading my poems I figured to could cross that stage fright barrier, which, I found out, I don't actually have. We did a 45 minute stand up/improv thing in front of the members of Drama and it went quite well. It was proper scary and I had the shivers for the first couple of minutes, but it was also so a lot of fun.

Then, to top it all off and cherry-up the cake, I received an email from the Merseyside International Society stating that I'd won a prize for my little bit of writing I sent in a week earlier! I was shortlisted for a 100 pounds in cash for an essay on what Liverpool was like trough the eyes of an International Student. I won second prize, £25 to spend in Waterstone's and a really cool plaque. The setting was amazing though, the prize ceremony was held in the Athanaeum in town. A posh club like the ones in the olden days where gentlemen would sit, smoke, read and drink to avoid their wives. Only in 1996 was it decided to let ladies join up too. They showed us around the building. They've got their own library, dinner rooms gigantic staircase etc. It was wicked.

see for yourself at http://www.theathenaeum.org.uk/intro.htm

Well, live goes on for a celebrated poet, famous stand up comedian and prizewinning author *cough*right*cough* and I've been doing rehearsals for the Drama Showcase on Tuesday where we'll showcase (obviously) some short skits and other stuff. Also still writing my essays and preparing for everyone to leave for home! Yes, many of my international friends are leaving for good. I'm pretty sad about that.

Also went to see The Tragical History of Doctor Faustus yesterday, the last of the Drama plays this semester. It was very very well done and fantastic performances all around.

Some pictures of me in fancy surroundings (makes a change for that squalor I usually spend my days in) and with other 2nd prize winner Anne from Denmark.

Some fun Pictures

Purely because I'm in the library again and I'm not in the mood to self assess myself any further for Creative Writing, here some random pictures:




Me, Emma and Caroline in Fab Café (Best club in the world!!)


Me trying to open the Tardis in Fab (One of the reasons it's the best club, they have a Tardis!)


Night out in Bumper with Bart and the gang (i.e. my friends and Bart's friends; Sambuca Black)


My German friend Maria


Me and Caz find out how long my scarf actually is....quite.....


Too many ciders


It was freezing, evidence is that I'm sporting a thick cardigan while the Real English girls are dressed in skirts and shorts.

I managed to get the pictures clickable again, I'm still not the world's most apt blogger I'm afraid. Blog title is also clickable and quite funny actually :)

T'sarrahwell!

Pointless Library Rant....

Ok, remember how last time I went on about if nothing happened to me in a week I'd be one hell of a bore? Well, that stage is passed...I'm a bore. I've been stuck inside my house, writing my essays (Thankfully 2 of them are now done, I am pretty chuffed 'bout that) for two weeks now. I mean, I have been going to Drama Workshop of course, where they told me they wanted me in the Showcase at the end of term. You'll never guess in what...An Improv show a la 'De Lama's' or 'Whose line is it anyway'. People actually thought I was funny. (So There! I'm no longer the only one who thinks that) And I have been to see a cool play at LIPA (Liverpool Institute of Performing Arts) where my flatties go to school, and also the Midsummer night's dream Drama soc production which was hilarious. However, no cool pictures, anecdotes or insights on this side of the Channel. Only the answer to my 3 hypotheses (plurality has never been my strong point, but I think that's spelled right) 1) The Irish natives, during the 16th and 17th Century, were seen by the English Colonisers as stereotypical savage Barbarians and their women were seen as loose and having a strange sexuality 2) The Viking invaders of Ireland between 795 and 900 were not as vicious and destructive as popular belief would suggest; they actually enhanced almost every aspect of Medieval Irish society 3) James Joyce isn't an Irish Revivalist at all, and his Portrait of an Artist, demonstrates an aversion, if not an escape from 19th Century Nationalism.

See...that's how boring my life is right now.

Oh, and all essays have to be printed out on paper (what age do we live in, that of the typewriter?) twofold, and handed in at the Irish office pigeon hole where we have to sign our name to make sure that we actually handed it in at that precise moment in time. This little adventure has already set me back £1.50, and will do so at least twice more because, as you might have guessed, even the printouts are much more expensive than in The Netherlands.

To top it all off, I wanted to buy a muffin in the Lib cafe. They were 1.50. Guess what I just spent that on...... So I was a few p. short. Now I think I should've been given it for free because I'm one of the library's biggest contributors, money wise and taking-out-books-that-haven't-felt-a-human-hand-for-23-years-because-nobody-wants-to-read-them-but-me-because-they're-old-but-I-like-old-books wise.

And it's raining.....

And it gets dark at 3.45

And it never really gets light because the clouds are obscuring the earth from the sun

And it never gets reeeealy cold, so you're either to warmly dressed so you sweat, or dressed way to cold so you freeze.

But I'm having fun! yes I am...*shifty eyes*

PS: cool new feature, click the post title and you'll be transported through cyberspace to a land of yummy goodness.

Oh, so much to tell and so little time! It’s not that I’m a very bad blogger, well, actually I am, but that’s not the point. The point is that I still don’t have internet in my room (my own choice because it’s ridicuolously expensive and the longer I wait the cheaper it becomes to hook up) and that I spent the last week locked up in my room writing essays that have to be handed in the end of November. I’ve still got loads to write and I’m being sensible and writing them at home instead of the library because there I’ll only be on MSN, Facebook and Youtube….Yes, I’m one of those slackers who consider checking their latest tagged photos more important than writing that paragraph concerning Oriental influences on Irish Colonial representation (sounds well interesting dunnit?)

Anyhoo, a good many things happened since my last update (they’d better have, if since Halloween last October nothing noteworthy happened to me I’d be a right bore).
First of all, Bart came over last weekend, we and a couple of friends had a properly good time roaming the streets of Liverpool in search of fun and ending up in a bar where some sort of little new wave electro techno band screeched out the last notes of what they called their brand new single. We had fun though, and those who are on Facebook will be able to bear witness. The other highlight of last week was Guy Fawkes Day (Remember Remember the 5th of November --Those who’ve seen V for Vendetta will know what I’m talking about, those who do not, go rent/download that film right now. If you are physically unable to do so, I’ll just copy past the accompanying link--http://www.bonfirenight.net/) which meant Bonfire night throughout England, including Liverpool. Many a little lad here in the Pool couldn’t wait till the 5th, and fireworks had been going off around here for days. But finally at 7.30, in Sefton Park (which again is an agonising 30 min from my house, everything is so far here! I miss Holland in that respect…and bikes, Oh, woe on me, how I miss my bike) a display of fireworks made the long walk and the cold worth while. Beautiful bangs and splashes all set on some cool classical music. It was really wicked and me and my friends were glad we were there to see it.

Then the week passed quietly until we went on our second International Trip to see some of England’s beautiful countryside. I’d very much enjoyed going to the Lake District so was looking forward to this new adventure. My excitement only grew when I realised that this trip was destined for the little town of Haworth, the village in which the famous Brontë sisters spent most of their lives and had written those little gems of novels that everyone knows. Wuthering Heights is thought to be set close to the Haworth Moors, and it doesn’t take much imagination to see Jane Eyre walking around those hills and sheep that lined the countryside. We got off in the centre of the town and walked the little path that Emily Brontë is said to have walked just before she died. We visited the site of their burial and the church of their father’s Parsonage. Best of all, me and Julia went to visit their house! It was incredible to be in this little cottage that housed one of the most famous literary families of England. Surrounded by trees and a gorgeous graveyard it is situated on the top of the small hill that makes up most of Haworth. For four pounds you could go inside, and of course we wouldn’t pass on such an opportunity. (Awkwardly, me and Julia were the only ones to show this sort of enthusiasm for what I think is truly important English heritage) So, there we stood, in the kitchen were Anne used to study her German, in the bedroom where Charlotte’s dress was on display and most impressing of all, in the drawing room where the three sisters not only were said to work on their writing every night, but also where Emily died on the very sofa that was still set in the right hand corner of the room. Quite an experience.

Oh, and Heathcliff was from Liverpool!

Then, as a slight anticlimax we went on to visit two museums where I managed to pet some gigantic Shire horses and got to be on a picture with a genuine Dalek.

Another anticlimax happened just a few nights back. In the UK, or at least in Liverpool, a great hoopla is made when the city turns on the Christmas Lights all over town. This is preceded by a sort of big deal with real celebrities that no-one outside has heard of (mind you, Atomic Kitten’s Natasha Hamilton (is that her name?) was there to sing a few of her new ‘hit’ singles) that get together with Santa to flick a switch. This time it took from 5 to 6 for all the artists to do their little bit and all that time me and a couple of friends were stood in the icy wind, rain and general freeziness waiting for the bloody lights to be switched on. We figured it’d be worth to wait for the actual switch on business instead of fleeing inside the nearest pub to warm up over a pint. When finally, after waiting for Santa to abseil off a building and getting stuck, they got to the actual moment that we’d all been waiting for. What we’d actually got were a few ickle little lights that flickered a little bit and some soggy fireworks that tried to make an impression while the light display dispended all over St. Georges hall (mind you, that’s a huge building) refused to turn on and left us high and dry. Or wet. Right…. We eventually managed to get home and had our tea which was a hundred time nicer than bloody Aston Road or lights on strike.

However, even though Christmas is still a long way away (whatever the window display at M&S leads us to believe) it’s getting a lot colder here in Livertown I’m very glad I bought a long warm coat before I left the continent (that’s what ‘we’ call it here) because it seems like the wind has it in for England. It’s already snowing in Newcastle and large parts of the South…and even though Liverpool is not big on the snow thing (some malarkey concerning a gulfstream) I predict a long and cold looking winter ahead of me! But at least now, after Sunday, there are pretty lights lining the streets of the city centre to brigten up these dark and gloomy days a bit. Let the Christmas shopping commence!

Charlotte's hair is in the envelope, Emily's in the braid and Anne's in the brooch.

Drama Soc Halloween Ghost Tour

It's been a while, but I've come bearing gifts (or at least, scary photos!)

So, the 31st of October, a big deal in the UK, it's Halloween night and get ready to dress up as your favourite comicbook character, a scary ghost or walking cucumber sandwich. I myself only underwent this ritual for the first time last year when the International Student Network organised an All Hallow's Eve for the forries in Leiden, but this time I'm being plunged in at the deep end with organising a proper Shiverpool tour through the Student Guild here in Liverpool. A 7 day rehearsal period where we set out a route through the Guild building, which is pretty big, covering the icky film cellar, deserted corridor, old library and the ancient staircase that circles all the way up into the loft. The Writing class I've been doing with the Dramas, and a very disorganises writing session left us with 7 deadly scary stories to tell during the tour. 15 of us then, on the day of truth, without any dress rehearsal, got into our last minute bought costumes, painted our faces frightningly white and bloodied up to preform, what I have to say is, one of the best pieces of scaring that went on that night. 4 tours on the hour with stories about ghosts, blood, gore and a lot of laughs in between. I myself played a corpse in the lift and the part of Snow white who suffocated in her corset on stage. I did a very convincing job dying in front of 20 tourpersons many of whom I knew personally.

It was a great success, nothing but enthusiastic responses to what we pulled off and many many people were really properly scared by what we told them. And they got a free drink at the end...what more does a student want?

Here some pictures of the night:

Culture Society

Just a quick scribble about the societies I joined, people've been asking about societies here in Liverpool and if they resemble Leiden or USA societies/fraternities. They do NOT! Not at all. It's a whole different idea here. For instance, you do have the English society and the Medical society for students of those subjects. However, the big difference here is that you also have, say, the Indie society, the Volunteering society, the Food society and many many more, including the ones I joined, Drama and Culture. With Drama it's basically being in a play, producing a play, participating in the independent workshops, inventing new stuff (Like the Halloween Ghost tour I and some other peeps are putting up for the 31st) and socials/fun stuff. (Pubcrawl coming up on Thursday)

The culture society is a little different. It's a brand new thing, just set up by some enthusiastic students this year. We, that is the members, are creating everything from scratch. We meet every Thursday to talk about what we are doing that or the following weeks; like going to see a play or a film together, starting up a poetry club, art club, book club etc, or, what we did the past two weeks, Paint! yes yes, I've become not only a poet in our little poetry club, but also a fully fledged Rembrandt when we put together our Culture Club (I know, very Karma Karma Chameleon) banner to be hung high in the Student Guild building. And as they say, a picture can say more than a thousand words, so here goes:

I wandered lonely as a cloud...(or sheep)

My first outing!! My first trip to a part of England that isn't Manchester! It was soooo cool. I tell you, go to the Lake District if you can, even if you can't.

The day began at 7.50 which was the time we had to be at the Adelphi Hotel to take the bus to the beautiful village that is Grasmere. To my utter utter astonishment (I did not know this before being on the bus) this was once the home of one of my favourite English Romantic poets William Wordsworth (Suus, start being jealous riiight.....NOW :p) He wrote a few of his most famous poems in the little cottage that is now the Wordsworth museum, and he is buried in the Grasmere graveyard alongside his wife and Dorothy his sister! I have not often been this excited about a dead person, but my heart lept a feet in the air when we arrived. We decided to go on the arranged hike first. Up into the mountains so famous for their beauty and inspiring many a Lake Poet. It was gorgeous. And the sun shone down on us while we climbed up the mountain and tasted the spring water. We met a few sheep on the way and became good friends with them. Along the way during our descend we had a little picknick in the sun while comfortably lounging on a big rock. We were very pleased to find a pencil on that very spot and of course christened it William Wordsworth pencil. We payed our respects and decided to leave it there to be found by other admirers.


Back in town we made our way through the bundles of excited Gingerbread buying people to the place we had been looking for for a while (for such a small town they still make it bloody difficult to find anything) The Graves....Of course they looked like any other grave in any other cemetery, but this one housed the body of the man that wrote some of the best poetry around in the English Language. It was wicked.



We also payed a visit to Dove Cottage, Wordsworth's house for many years. It was a few pounds to get in and we only had half an hour left so we didn't. But it was quite cool to see where he lived and worked. I can imagine you can produce world-famous literary work in such a lovely place. Too bad it has been commercialised over the years, it would have been so much nicer if there hadn't been such a steep entrance fee and museum shop there. (although I did buy some little thingys, hehe)

Back on the bus and on the way to Windemere, another small town in the District. Famous for it's boat/cruise trips on the lake adjacent to the town and a load of swans that live on chips and left over sandwiches all their lives. We had a lot of fun walking round the village, but were also shattered from the hike up the hill so decided to buy some food and look at the swans.







The ride home took about two hours, one of which I spent dreaming about sheep, and were back by dinner time. Today, sunday, I slept till 2 o'clock because I was completely dead after such an exhausting day. But it was worth it!

To look at the village of Grasmere in some detail:

http://www.visitcumbria.com/amb/grasmere.htm

A day in the week of.....

My first job interview! Even though it took place last Friday, I'm still proud of myself for finding out about it. And even though I walked out in the middle of it (I'll explain) they still want me to work for them. And even though I really really can't, I'm still pretty pleased with the fact that I got the offer...

So, the story here is that I reacted on a position for Bosch Communications (yes, the ones that make the powertools, but surprisingly, they have a whole franchise of things going on including security and communication branches) who are in desperate need of Scandinavian speakers (according to them Dutch can be classified as Scandinavian it seems) to handle German airline Lufthansa assesments. (offering people 50 quid if they've filed complaints or send thank-yous to big CEOs who travel on a regular basis)

I went to the Bosch office --poshly situated in the middle of the Exchange district; the nicest part of town where Armani suits and Manolo Blahnik's roam the pavement-- to take part in their training day. This is the part where I walked out after an hour, but only because I kindly informed them that I wasn't going to be available to attend the 4 week training session they had in mind for all the newly recruited language wonders. No hard feelings (except that I'd left my bed at 6.30 for nothing) and I'm already looking out for summat new....Thing is...They still want me! Recruitment agency emailed me back that they want to negotiate hours with me....I'd say this is a 'to be continued'

*Picture is of the entrance to the Cotton Exchange, where Bosch's office is at*

Sooo, also spent another wonderful weekend in Manchester. Bart had organised a Karaoke night just because I was coming, bless him. It was a hoot, were it not that we were all slightly drunk and ate almost everything edible in his cupboard. Sorry 'bout that, but Molly was very happy :D

Went to the Bombed out Church and the Cathedral....

Oh bugger....

I auditioned yesterday...I basically stunk...

Ok, so the story is, I'm in the Drama society, the dramas preform 4 plays each semester. This time round it's The Tragical history of Doctor Faustus, Crime and Punishment, A Midsummer night's dream and Claxons, Trumpets and Raspberries. I want to be in one of them. Preferably as an actor, but if not, perhaps backstage. Now, I auditioned, or tried to, for Claxons first. I realised I'm not very good at modern plays cus I had no clue how to portray this character I had to read. (Besides that, my mind was on the 3000 euro the tax officers thought I had to pay back, but thankfully that turned out to be not me) Aaaanyway. I was rubbish and decided never to audition again.

I did though, for Faustus, and even if I don't get cast for anything, which I think is the case, I still think I did a good job! I found out I'm much much better at Old 1600's iambic pentamater plays than at something that has to resemble the present...I was indeed born in the wrong century. Sooooo, now I'm going to try out for something a good buddy of mine wrote, my old friend William. Maybe I can be a fairy...I bet I can flutter about on stage a little....doesn't even have to be lines really.

In other news, I discovered the pleasure that is eating potato waffels at 11 o' clock at night. Seriously, the pure delight of a warm, steaming yellow ovensnack with some mayo and ketchup after you've been out in the cold is incomparable to any other thing you could be doing at 11 o'clock in the evening. No, don't try to agrue, you can't. Potato goodness, throathy warmth and greasy fingers all in one. Secondly, I'm also very pleased with the little fact I'm will be writing for the University magazine, arts section, which entails free passes to any concert, gig, theatre event etc I want to attend if only I write an article about it for the paper. yay, I've got some ideas in the back of my head that will serve that purpose, and my own, very well.

Again, a visual impression....

Just a wee look into Liverpool's greatest assets (to be completely honest, there are some bum-ugly buildings out there, and half of the suburb is boarded up because the houses are uninhabitable...but the centre is gorgeous at times:)

1. The Liverpool 'Piazza' - Walker Art Gallery, the fountain and some scousers
2. The students of John Moores get to stay in this little picture of a house...lucky buggers.

3. I think this was Liverpools Boyscout club or something....it's now the local YMCA (Though walking around the Pool in an Indian/Police/leather/or whatever those blokes where wearing- outfit will not be a very wise thing to do...)

4. This little park called 'Abercromby Square' (For the linguists under us: short cat-vowel, not long phase-vowel) is just around the corner from my humble abode. It's quite nice, and I can't believe there's still flowers out and about while the temp is gradually dropping below acceptable Myrthe levels)

So that's a little impression of the things see or walk by everyday. I will, in the near future, shoot and post some things from the other end of the scales; there's still a lot of decayishness and bad architectural ideas going on here. For instance my Faculty is basically a step down from my Leiden Arts Fac, and that's when I thought buildings couldn't go any lower on the ugly scale. Also some of the areas are still very 'Northeren town -trying to be a metropole but actually not grasping the thought behind it'-ish. In addition, as I said before, the suburbs, some of them, are a sad picture. Possibly comparable to the Amsterdam lowlife areas outside the citycentre; there's scum walking the streets, little bored children throwing bottlecaps at passing cars, and bums playing tiny broken off-key flutes asking passers-by for money to buy some 'food' -- unless booze and crack have suddenly become part of the five food group pyramid, I highly doubt they will...

But luckily, this is not the main feeling that Liverpool oozes, no, it's more a City on the rise. A city that wants to make a name for itself, a good name. As of January 2008, Liverpool will be the Capital of Culture, and everybody is trying very hard to get that message across. Intricate systems of scaffolding are dominating many of the lovely Liverpool facades and city counsel workers are tidying up many of the small parks and greens around town. I bet that in a few months time the city will come out of it's little extreme makeover as nothing less than a (be it in her Northeren moderation and still a bit akward on it's feet) beautiful swan...So, no reason not to come visit in the year 2008!

The Dutch in me

It's Sunday today. A very gloomy, tissue sniffing Sunday. A perfect day to spend inside a stuffy, overcrowded hall shuffling past little booths and stalls were every imaginable student related society, union, music venue, transport association and other loonies pass out free promotional items, flyers and food. It's Freshers Fair today and the goal is to get as many flabbergasted Uni newbies to sign up for what you are advertising. This, first of all, is done by shoving leaflets and information booklets in everyone's hands; irrespective of your desire to receive them. I, for instance, was supposedly suited to be handed flyers to join the Malay speaking society, the Men's Frisbee club and the Gothic appreciation group. I am neither from Malasya, a man or a goth (even though I was wearing a black jacket and some eyeliner).

However; I was very happy to receive the info on the Drama, the Culture and the English societies, and will probably sign up for these in any case.

Secondly, this signing up thing is achieved by providing you with free items. Ranging from a marshmallow or gummybear to, to my ever Dutch Delight, a disposable camera, an assault alarm for icky harass pervs, and shotglasses. (I won't ever use them mummy! I'll only drink juice from them, I promise) These were things that you could actually get me out of bed at 8.30 for. Besides that, I snatched a few nice stickers and postcards from somewhere, and got some new canvas bags for my groceries.



On a different note: in the last couple of days I: signed up for all my classes, bought Bridget Jones' Diary for one pound, got myself a free Liverpool Central Library membership and took out half of the chick lit department, discovered H&M is sadly NOT the cheapest shop around, Asda sells ontbijtkoek and met the latest addition to our flat; my roommate Chris and his gf Dani (which makes the total of Danis in my house 2 and the final count of 'Jos' 2 as well) who are both very nice and very British

One other thing I discovered, only a few of the homeys eat vegetables, and none of the N-Irish like to eat them at all. It might be something very British, but it seems the closest they come to getting their vitamin levels up is eating beans on toast and drinking Cranberry squash. I get very weird looks when I prepare my stir-fry with my 'legume mix' -fresh spinach, red onion, corn, garlic and carrot- in my new wok (God, I love my wok). So now my aim is to make them something delicious someday to show them that veg are cool. Cus they are. Seriously cool. Go veg!

Roomie pics

It's still a bit of a mess, my room, but then again, I doubt that will ever change. I do love my mess...

Anyway... a little accomanying text; that colourful thing that's trying to resemble a face is actually a genuine Sylvia Plath painting (Sylke, that's cool innit!?) I didn't really like it at first but it's growing on me and making the place look a little brighter. (God, how I hate white wood furniture and you can see, how Murphy, it's all around me)

The three posters I bought are the ones on the door and on the wall in that one picture. And the other one I got for free. (Thanks Bart!)


I've got some pinboards to pin up photos and the like. And a very very large desk that can hold all my clutter fabulously. All in all quite nice, no?

Oh right, and I went to Bart's over the weekend:

A few days have passed and I'm starting to find my way around town. My second night (that was Thursday I guess) I was party crashing a Theatre school Pub Crawl. Two of my roomies, Jo and Dani, are freshers at LIPA (Liverpool inst. of Preforming Arts) and their mentors found it a wise idea to let a flock of 18yr olds loose in town while wearing wrist bands that provided them with free alcohol... When I was that age (I know I know, that's not been such a long time, but just bear with me) I would've thought it a brilliant plan too. However, one roomie came home in tears, the other couldn't find her way home. I on the other hand had a very good time and handled the complementary cocktail that was thrust upon me while pretending to be a aspiring actress quite lovely. The following two as well. Who'd've thought that cranberry liquor, milk and cream could make such a wonderful drink.....But to make a long story short, my first night out in the town was a success. Liverpool is literally littered with bars, pubs and clubs, and there's something for everyone. There are also plenty of little restaurants and cafes that offer much more than the conventional fish and chips, and there usually are so many veggie options that I don't even to think about ordering 'just the tomato soup please'.


I also pimped my room a little bit. It was so bare and empty that not even a minimalistic Stalinist would feel at home. Uni hosted a big poster sale so three fabulous posters I bought (3 for £10) livend the place up a good deal. But it needs a lot more to make it feel totally like home; I miss all my books so much, and all my little boxes, plants, picture frames and cards that I am used to having around me. However, all of that is made a little more bareable by the fact that I have my own bathroom, I don't know if I mentioned that before, if I did, that is how excited I am about it! I can shower in peace and quiet, leave my stuff lying around on my own bathroom floor and draw smiley faces on my own damp mirror.

Well, I have to say adieu, the library is closing. (Yes, sadly still no internet in my own room, is going to take some more time) But I'll leave you with a picture of the cathedral that my room looks out upon.


(by the by, want to post a message? click the little text balloon or the rabid dogs link, think that does the trick....)

Just some pics....

1-My kitchen
2-My house
3-My view

Scared sheetless

Yes, you can all resume your daily routines, get a normal night's sleep, blow out the prayer candles and in general breathe again; I have arrived... To be precise, I moved into my new flat yesterday afternoon at around 1 o'clock. I almost immediately had to get out again because to my utter surprise, the bedlinnen and other such things that I had expected to be there were in fact not, and the pots and pans that my eyes were trying to find in the kitchen storage had no physical apparation either. Actually, besides the usual major appliances, there were almost no kitchen utensils at all except those of my (then) two (now 5) roomates. So I had to walk downtown (which for some is ideally located on walking distance from my home, but for others (me) a fair bit of trodding away up and down the hill that is Liverpool (where's the pool anyway? It's more like a mountain if you ask me) to buy such and such. Got mistaken for a Swede at one point, but luckily also a Brit, bumped into a very large sweaty Liverpudlian, witnessed the largest queue in history, the worst accent in history, and a major muscle ache from all of the bumping, looking and trudging up hills.

I would like to write more (or for that matter; more eloquently, better spelled and less chaotic) but I only have an hour at the library computers and the reason I am one of those computers is a whole 'nother story in itself.

So, Cheerio for now and I'll be back soon. Hopefully on my own internetconnection where I'll be able to post pictures of my homey and my homeys.

Ok OK! I give up.....

Today I hooked up my Mum's DVD-recorder. I spent about one and a half hours trying to make sense of the manual which they included ("They" being the unknown individuals who make it their life's intent to write and distribute instruction booklets that make no sense whatsoever, drive you mad, and eventually get you so far as to throwing the whole electrical device that you are trying to install out of the window -- even though that last action only takes place in your own little personal fantasy, the whole ordeal is frustrating enough without having to call the glass repair blokes--)

Another "They" I now heartily despise are the men and women of town hall. Last Monday I came to Hoorn on some special Liverpool DYI-Business (It's now become such a burdensome bit of affairs I decided to name it) that I had with Hoorn's municipal centre. I wanted to change my official post address away from Oegstgeest back to my home town. I thought it would be an easy bit of administrative paperwork (at the word and thought paperwork I should've known better of course). How-bloody-ever, by now I've been up and down Hoorn's and Oegstgeest's town halls twice, and next Wednesday I'm off to Oegstgeest again because the lovely tight-bunned lady at the Hoorn desk told me she couldn't help me. I'm slowly becoming a tad frustrated...

On top of all that: (1) there ain't any food starting with a C in the house (because I ate my last Chocolate Chip Cookie, which is triple the fun) and I neeeed it. More than ever. (2) My room is stacked full of boxes, 5 of which contain all my books and all 5 are on the bottom of the very heavy ready to fall over pile so I can't get to them which is sad business in itself but now I'm afraid they'll get crushed. (3) I have to pay my last bit of rent while my paycheck hasn't come through yet and my bank balance is threatening to file a suit for negligence. Finally (4) : I can't find my blowdryer anywhere and my hair is flat....

You can all help me by donating chocolate and coins in little purple ribboned baskets to be left in front of my door.