I have at last arrived in Leuven. It is a place that actually exists, despite my doubts during the long period leading up to the moment when I finally looked up from the maps and forms and luggage locker reciepts to find myself standing before the Stadhuis (they call it a `town hall´ here, but that only confirms my suspicion that these people know some other language better than mine).

I haven´t begun to settle in yet, but I did find an apartment, or rather a room in an apartment building, and the second day I was here! Now I know what my Mother and all you Pittsburgh people are saying to yourselves `Does she remember the last time she rushed into a rental contract and ended up paying hundreds of dollars for deadbeat douchebaggery?´ Well, yes I do, my dears, but it´s only me this time and if I hate it, I hate it. I don´t have to spend another night in the hostel and I´ve done the hating my living space enough times to know that it can´t be worse in Europe. If I can´t stand to be inside I´ll just go out and roll around on the cobblestones or bask in the voluminous shadow of the Central Library. I have previously DREAMT of such problems, and besides, my room is sunny, spacious with a sweet skylight window and it comes with a brown bear! The landlady is a nice, fashionable and efficient woman who seems like she knows what she´s doing, so fuck it, I like to find things when I want to find them, so I guess this time I´m gonna let the rationalization wash away my possible sin.