Today, I had a nice pizza for lunch. After that, I went to my favourite bar for coffee and a "mousse au chocolat". I started reading my new book ( Pope Joan), and everything was just fine. I was enjoying a very long and relaxing lunch break.
But you feel something is coming, right? Right.
Suddenly, I got as dizzy as could possibly be. Everything went black and I was about to faint. I managed to get off my bar stool, and hurried outside - hoping the fresh air would do some wonders. But it didn't. I got to a bench just in time, and I collapsed - right there. On a bench, on Place de Brouckère - a square where fainting is the last thing you want to do. I slipped in and out of consciousness, and I managed to call P - who could do nothing else but talk to me, while I was lying there in "homeless-position".
"Go back to the bar, go back to the bar" was P's advice. Only, the bar was 20 meters away, and I couldn't stand on my legs even if the king had asked me to. Finally, slowly, I came back to earth. With shaky legs I managed the 5-minute walk back to school.
Collegue : "Wow, are you tired!?"
Me: "No, but I just fainted - in the middle of Place de Brouckère."
Collegue : "No way! Here, have some chocolate."
Me: "Thanks." (I didn't mention I just had a complete chocolate mousse).
All in all, it was a scary experience: fainting when you're on your own, in a place where more than one handbag gets stolen every single day. I haven't got a clue what happened. Maybe my book was too exciting, maybe my coffee wasn't strong enough.Anyway: this one is getting ready for an early night.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
My wish list
In no particular order :
1. a new bike
2. a new laptop (this one is really dying)
3. a new cell phone (also dying)
4. a Wii fit
5. a baby
All donations are welcome. (I realise that this, in the light of the last wish, might sound a bit weird.)
1. a new bike
2. a new laptop (this one is really dying)
3. a new cell phone (also dying)
4. a Wii fit
5. a baby
All donations are welcome. (I realise that this, in the light of the last wish, might sound a bit weird.)
Monday, March 1, 2010
The book seat
Last Friday my two maids of honour organised an “after wedding shower” for me. The goal was to provide me with a survival package for my first year as Mrs B. First, they took me to one of the coolest, newest, hippest places in Brussels (top restaurant, loungey club, great DJ, live band, cocktail bar etc all in one). Then they managed to literally burry me under a pile of gifts. A voucher for a champagne breakfast. A voucher for a fancy lunch. Another voucher for a “sweet sin” (read: chocolate). Yet another one to go to the theatre. And a final one for the spa. All valid for two persons. So I can choose: bring Mr B, or bring a friend.
That was not all. I got two trashy gossip magazines...and a gift voucher to take a subscription to another girly magazine for one year. I got chocolates. And more chocolates. I got a designy box for the kitchen. And : I got a book seat. I had never ever seen one of those things (apparently it’s an “Australian design”) – and since I’m an absolute book addict, I think this is one of the best and most original gifts I ever had! By the time the waiter came with my second cosmopolitan, I had disappeared under the foresaid pile.
We managed to close the place at three am, after American pool-lessons from at least 4 guys, and after free cocktails from Eros Ramazotti’s impresario.
Finding the car and managing to get out of the underground parking lot was the last challenge of the evening. For me at least, ‘cause my two maids still had to convince the cops that “no, they only had a glass of wine during dinner” (right...).
Anyway, the cops believed the lovely girls, somehow I didn’t have a hangover, and everybody lived happily ever after.
I’m already looking forward to my survival kit for my second year of marriage :-)!
Sunday, February 21, 2010
N the godmother
A godchild is a child that God sends you to cheer you up because you can’t have kids of your own. At least, that’s my very own theory.
Yesterday, I had a fantastic day with A, my little bundle of mischief. For his sixth birthday, I had planned a fun day in Brussels:
- eating hamburgers and fries in a restaurant where painted monsters are watching you from every wall
- imagining the exciting lives of the ducks at the ponds (according to A, the fountain in the ponds was nothing more than the ducks’ shower)
- going wild in the playground (and in the trees surrounding the playground)
- discovering – cooking – making art in the Children’s Museum,
- playing hide and seek with godmother in the middle of the city,
- and eating huge pieces of apple pie.
Then it was time for A and his mom to go home. They jumped in dad’s car, and the little family of three drove off to their house in the suburbs. Me, I walked home through the streets of this city, feeling very alone, feeling I’ll never be the proud mom taking the pictures, but always the crazy godmother trying to only step on the white lines of the crosswalk, and hiding behind trash cans on Avenue Louise.
Yesterday, I had a fantastic day with A, my little bundle of mischief. For his sixth birthday, I had planned a fun day in Brussels:
- eating hamburgers and fries in a restaurant where painted monsters are watching you from every wall
- imagining the exciting lives of the ducks at the ponds (according to A, the fountain in the ponds was nothing more than the ducks’ shower)
- going wild in the playground (and in the trees surrounding the playground)
- discovering – cooking – making art in the Children’s Museum,
- playing hide and seek with godmother in the middle of the city,
- and eating huge pieces of apple pie.
Then it was time for A and his mom to go home. They jumped in dad’s car, and the little family of three drove off to their house in the suburbs. Me, I walked home through the streets of this city, feeling very alone, feeling I’ll never be the proud mom taking the pictures, but always the crazy godmother trying to only step on the white lines of the crosswalk, and hiding behind trash cans on Avenue Louise.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Just a peek...
Last week our wedding pictures were ready. This one is one of my favourites. It's taken through the glass wall of a bus cabin - giving the picture a timeless look. And making P and myself just unrecognisable enough to post it here, on the blog :-).
Friday, February 5, 2010
Fever
Hi everyone. Today I'm writing in an horizontal position (don't get any wild ideas). I'm just flat out on the couch, throat-spray, painkillers and cup of tea within reach. That's right, after facing sneezing students for the past 3 months, my imune-system finally gave in.
Being sick always reminds me of Barbizon, where I was the lovely hostess of several viruses during my first couple of months in the countryside (remember?). My memory goes straight back to our cosy flat above the art galery, where I re-read every single Harry Potter, all covered up in blankets, and in the loving company of Phoebe the hamster. Making quick trips across the street for croissant aux amandes from the bakery, or for home-made lasagna from the deli. And taking loads of medicine. So you see, I do miss France from time to time - even if it's triggered by such things as having a fever...(wait, maybe I'm just delirious?)
Being sick always reminds me of Barbizon, where I was the lovely hostess of several viruses during my first couple of months in the countryside (remember?). My memory goes straight back to our cosy flat above the art galery, where I re-read every single Harry Potter, all covered up in blankets, and in the loving company of Phoebe the hamster. Making quick trips across the street for croissant aux amandes from the bakery, or for home-made lasagna from the deli. And taking loads of medicine. So you see, I do miss France from time to time - even if it's triggered by such things as having a fever...(wait, maybe I'm just delirious?)
Thursday, February 4, 2010
It takes two
I want a baby.
No need to be ashamed of it, and no need to make a big thing out of it. It’s normal, lots of people want babies, and it doesn’t make me some kind of freak.
Sorry, I had to write that down once, just to keep my sanity. ‘Cause here at home, I can’t talk about it. It’s the big “taboo”. It’s only my wish, and nobody else’s.
My hormones have been screaming “Reproduce!” for the past five years now, and believe me: ignoring them is getting harder and harder. Also, at 33, I mustn’t kid myself (no pun intended) : the clock is ticking. I look at fertility charts taking a deep plunge after 35. While the charts with all sorts of “complications” go up-up-up around the same age.
P and I have always been on different timelines. I wanted to live together – I had to wait (years). I wanted to get married – I had to wait (years). The problem with the baby-issue is that “waiting” is becoming less and less of an option. I don’t want to calculate, take hormone treatments, visit fertility clinics, take high risks for my baby (and myself), etc. I just want nature to take its course and do its thing – sooner or later. But I can want a lot of things. It still takes two to tango, as we clearly saw in Buenos Aires.
No need to be ashamed of it, and no need to make a big thing out of it. It’s normal, lots of people want babies, and it doesn’t make me some kind of freak.
Sorry, I had to write that down once, just to keep my sanity. ‘Cause here at home, I can’t talk about it. It’s the big “taboo”. It’s only my wish, and nobody else’s.
My hormones have been screaming “Reproduce!” for the past five years now, and believe me: ignoring them is getting harder and harder. Also, at 33, I mustn’t kid myself (no pun intended) : the clock is ticking. I look at fertility charts taking a deep plunge after 35. While the charts with all sorts of “complications” go up-up-up around the same age.
P and I have always been on different timelines. I wanted to live together – I had to wait (years). I wanted to get married – I had to wait (years). The problem with the baby-issue is that “waiting” is becoming less and less of an option. I don’t want to calculate, take hormone treatments, visit fertility clinics, take high risks for my baby (and myself), etc. I just want nature to take its course and do its thing – sooner or later. But I can want a lot of things. It still takes two to tango, as we clearly saw in Buenos Aires.
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