Did I Say That?

Here's a Q. I'm waiting for the A.

Now where did this post go?

Now that it's official…

…I might as well break the news: from september 1^st until the 4^th I'll be in London doing something or other. Which will most likely include walking until my legs are numb, browsing through almost every record- and bookstore that looks remotely interesting, visiting some museums, and stuff of that ilk.

Another list

I like these list-thingies. Here's a short one.

• Best. Gadget. Ever.
• Du kennst Pimp my Fahrrad nicht?
• A though that crosses my mind very often: fuck this website!
• Stonecoal english is out. Dunglish is in.

Seasons change, and so can I

To put it bluntly, I gotta move.

Recently, Pjotr figured out that his bed is actually to big for his ambitions room. Well, actually, he mentioned something like lacking space for his desk in his room or something, but basically, it comes down to the same thing: his bed is too big for his room. So he wants to move his desk to the livingroom. And as the "livingroom" is actually one of his rooms, all I can do is accept it.

But that doesn't mean I have to be happy with it. 'Cause believe me, I ain't. Not a bit.

About three and a half years ago, we got the offer to move from a temporarily, shared four-room apartment to this three-room apartment which is divided in two, and rented out as such. I rent a room, he rents two rooms, and we share the facilities. At first, I wasn't too thrilled about the proposal. I have never been too excited about the idea of living in just one room, and if not for the fact that staying wasn't much of an option and his offer to share one of his rooms as a common livingroom, I suppose that I would have preferred to stay put. But anyway, we moved.¹

I must admit that I am making it sound a bit more dramatic than it actually is. I can still use the "livingroom" for breakfast, diner and the after-dinner coffee. Hell, I can even leave my couch and dining table there! ² But other than that, I guess I have to find another place for all those CDs and LPs (and assorted other junk) I've stashed in there.
So far I've been thinking of putting up a couple of shelves above my desk. Which means that I'll finally have to touch up that plastered over spot on my otherwise impeccable blue wall. Other than that, I guess I can ditch most of the books on the lower shelf of my bookcase (old schoolbooks I most likely will never look into again), or maybe store some stuff in "ye olde county".

And now to get back to my bluntly made statement, I think that I gotta move. The last couple of weeks (or is it months) I have encountered several moments when I was not feeling quite at home in my own house. And I think that when that happens, it's time to go. Go, and find an other world than this. It isn't like this livingroom-deal is the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back, but it is a factor. All in all, I think that moving would fit quite nicely in the grand scheme of my life at the moment and how some things gotta change.
Which brings me to my next and final point: I am a complete and utter jackass. Here in Amersfoort, if you're looking for a house with a reasonable rent (as buying something isn't an option right now), you got to be registered with the local housing-what-d'ya-call-it. I registered almost a year ago. I should have done that a lot earlier. And I mean a lot. Basically, it could take (a lot) more than a year before it is my turn. And since I don't have regular shouting matches or any other weird shit with my neighbours going on, it doesn't seem like I have any ground to be be labeled as "urgent".

So it looks like I'll be here for a while longer, and I guess I'll have to make the most of it, one way or the other.

1. On a side note: I can't help but wonder what the situation would be like when they had offered Pjotr my room, and vice versa. ↩
2. It's not that I can put them in my room anyway… ↩

This is what I did this weekend

On friday, I left early at work, raced home, packed my bag, took the bus to the trainstation, took the train, switched trains in Utrecht, and waited on another bus in Woerden. That bus took me to Noorden, where I dropped of my bag, hopped on a bike and rode that sucker into Nieuwkoop.
The reason I went through the actions listed above in less then three hours, was that I was having diner with a group of friends. We do so every month, and usually it is great fun. This time was no exception, although there are some unresolved issues floating around.

Saturday, I was busy most of the day with masking tape, sandpaper and paint. I offered to help painting a caravan because I had actually nothing better to do, and all in all, it wasn't bad at all. At night I also watched The Cider House Rules, which is actually not bad at all too. In fact, it was quite a good watch.

On sunday, that is, up until now, I didn't do much. Watched some episodes of Six Feet Under, saw the last few rounds of the Tour de France, diner, and off to Amersfoort it was.

Still working on some stuff I need to get out of my system. Won't be long, I suppose.

Alrighty then...

Tomorrow I'll be starting in Stephen King's From A Buick 8. The Tower Junk in me needs a fix, if it do ya fine. And whether he's already read it or not, a certain someone can (and should) expect some spoilers coming his way. *insert evil grin here*

So yes, that means I've finished with Harry Potter the Sixth. Guess I can give away the real spoiler now.

And as for some completely unrelated other developments I'm not exactly thrilled about: remember that time when I said I tend to overthink things? Guess what: I'm at it again.

Parry Hotter and The Uncle–Fuckin' Spoilsport

Take the lack of something better to do, no TV and the resolution to spend less time behind a computer screen when I'm not required to and stir it all together. What do you get? Right, more time to read a book. And since my copy of Harry Potter and The Half–Blood Prince arrived yesterday, that's exactly what I did. Currently I'm halfway through chapter thirteen, and after tonight, well, who knows? I don't think the book'll make it to the weekend.

And then you have certain types who enjoy spoiling a (major) event in the book purely for the sake of spoiling it... Well, I'd already seen the rumors floating round the internet, and at the end of chapter two it isn't much of a stretch to combine the rumor with the story and come out on said spoiler, but still!
Looks like there's someone I know who'll get every ending of every book I lend him spoiled. But then again, I'm a nasty, revengeful bastard.

A LIST, which for a part is pointless

Another quick trip through the "mental note to self" section of my inbox:

• Go over to Arie's log for a photo that features me looking stupid while pointing to a piece of paper. Thanks Anne!
• I thought that this movie wasn't quite bad. And here's a direct link to the making of.
• Mental note to self: process this stuff quicker. Half of it doesn't make any sense anymore.
• Pointless list #1: List of songs with titles that don't appear in the lyrics
• Is Flying Spaghetti Monsterism a valid alternative to the Evolution Theory? I think it is.
• Woe unto thee, O ye incompetent tax-collector, for you will see your pomegranates wither! And other favorites from the Biblical Curse Generator.
• From the department of "I don't know if it's true, but it makes a good story anyways…", To measure the height of a building with a barometer.
• Pointless list #2: Nuggets in Dream Theater's Octavarium.
• In my personal saga to apply some changes to the status quo, one of the options I'd like to explore is taking a stab at (creative) writing. And just as a reminder, here's a page of resources.
• Pointless list #3: Pox. There must be a reason I archived it, but I can't remember it. Suggestions?
• Another list. This ain't a pointless one, since I know that I have a problem with saying No!
• More on writing. And again, merely a personal pointer.
• Another personal pointer. This time to a CSS Framework.

Oh come on!

Just admit you're jealous…

Frustration

IE makes me wanna...

A DIALOGUE between me and some imaginary other entity in which I try to reach some point I haven't quite been able to formulate in a decent way

So, you might ask, you've already decided where you'd wanna go?

Well, I would reply, no. I've been thinking about what aspects of my so called 'status quo' would need a little spicing up, but you know what? I think I overdid it. Thought about it too much. Every time I sat down to write some insightful stuff about it, I thought about it some more, and all it got me was more confused. In the end, I just overthought it.
But when I thought some more about it, I came to realize that actually, it doesn't really matter. Well, something's gotta change, that seems bloody obvious, at least to me, that is. But I think that I really shouldn't force a resolution on what to change, but that I should rather embrace the idea that something's gotta change. And from that point on, in a more relaxed state of mind if you will, I should move on. 'Cause, well, if you're not open to the possibility of change, how much good will a 'forced' change do? None, that's what I think.

You roll your eyes in disbelief and walk out. I go to the fridge, open a beer, and think about it some more.