Alright, last post of the day. I have to run the numbers for last month and that always takes me a few hours. But I couldn't stop without telling you about Shane, Phil and Marianne's fabulous house party on Friday night. First of all, their apartment is something else. It's huge, on the fourth floor of a building just across from St. Michael's Jesuit church (I took a picture of that sometime before my birthday) and it's very... umm... let's say modern, maybe kind of Frank Lloyd Wright-y, whatever that genre of architecture is. The inside has glass walls, exposed brick and Parque floors. They have a balcony in the back and a sweet kitchen that even has a freezer!
We all gathered there Friday night to get to know each other, even though most of the 2nd year MA students seem to be pretty tight friends. I met a lot of people and had a lot of great conversations. I brought my Jim Beam, which was promptly drunk, and I feel pretty good about emptying my loneliness bottle at such a great gathering. Symbolism is important, don't ever let anyone tell you it's not. Phil also gave me a shot of this homemade pear liquor someone had gotten in the Czech republic. It smelled like battery acid, but it had a nice aftertaste and I was reminded of the Calvados days back at 84 (is anyone reading this that would remember that? woo boy). At any rate, at some point I look around and Shannon, Phil and my new friend Chris (a.k.a. Frenchy) are missing and Marianne tells me they went to the Nachtwinkel for more booze. Incredulous, I head out after them, feeling my customary craving for Asian noodle packs. We went, I paid an outrageous price for some noodles (though that didn't lessen my enjoyment at all) and came back to party yet some more. At some point Shane announced that it was quarter to five (!!) and I had no poopin' idea where the time had gone. Shortly after that I headed home, although my hosts were kind enough to offer me a space on one of their numerous couches. One of the other little things I love about Leuven is how close everything is. I only had to stumble two blocks home, and I feel pretty safe here, so I opted for my own bed. There were still people there when I left, God bless them.
I had to wake up at 9 this morning to catch a train to this place Vilvoorde before 10. This was all very hard in my rough condition, but there's this package that has been floating around in the Taxipost system for about a week now, and though they tried to deliver it twice, I ultimately had to just go get it. The trip was interesting. I had to go to Brussels Noord to catch another train to Vilvoorde, but the trains run like clockwork here so it was easy-peazy. When I finally got to Vilvoorde, which is a charming and beautiful place I wouldn't otherwise have thought of, I had to walk for about half an hour (asking directions from everyone but finally only getting them from a very nice Policeman) to get into this industrial zone (just passed a crematorium) where Taxipost has its station. The walk into the industrial park was long and scary, especially given my fragile state, but I finally got there and received my birthday card from my Mom, which was a really nice bonus.
I was so tired when I got there that I called a cab for the ride back, which cost me a fortune (I won't even tell you how much it's so offensive) but the cabby was French speaking so I got to practice ("Ici ca bien, monsieur, merci.") and he dropped me off in the Grote Markt of Vilvoorde. It was filled with the Saturday market, which consisted of a lot of food stands and clothes trailers, so I grabbed a hamburger and sat on a curb. Best damn hamburger of my life, let me tell you, with the carmelized onions and everything. It was altogether a very pleasant experience. After a brief look at the shops (much less pricey than in Leuven, I think I will be back to Vilvoorde) I caught two trains back home.
I barely make it back to my apartment, collapse into my bed, and Marianne calls me. The three of them are going to Ikea. Now, my clothes are all on the floor and draped over my closet doors, and I need a reading light like no one's business, so I reluctantly agree and off I go for more domestic travel. It was fun, honestly. The three of them are a great group. Shane is from Kentucky, and has inexplicable sympathies with the Anglo-analytical strain of philosophy. Phillip is from the Boston area and come to think of it I don't know his specialty, and Marianne is from Halifax, so it's really a fun North American group. We managed to get out of the Saturday Ikea crush in about an hour and a half, and Phil and I had some 50cent hot dogs which just made me feel worlds better. Altogether, it was a pretty good day, expensive but good. Marianne (poor thing) was meeting her boyfriend at the airport later in the evening and he wanted to go out again that night, which from my perspective was just crazy. Nonetheless, I probably would have gone if I hadn't been dead to the world by the time she called me. At any rate, I'm having some kind of fun here in Leuven. I think my lonely days are over.
Today, I am planning to finish my accounts, do laundry and just read, read, read. I think my body requires a tremendous amount of rest now, so I will sign off. I hope all is well with you all!
Cake
We all gathered there Friday night to get to know each other, even though most of the 2nd year MA students seem to be pretty tight friends. I met a lot of people and had a lot of great conversations. I brought my Jim Beam, which was promptly drunk, and I feel pretty good about emptying my loneliness bottle at such a great gathering. Symbolism is important, don't ever let anyone tell you it's not. Phil also gave me a shot of this homemade pear liquor someone had gotten in the Czech republic. It smelled like battery acid, but it had a nice aftertaste and I was reminded of the Calvados days back at 84 (is anyone reading this that would remember that? woo boy). At any rate, at some point I look around and Shannon, Phil and my new friend Chris (a.k.a. Frenchy) are missing and Marianne tells me they went to the Nachtwinkel for more booze. Incredulous, I head out after them, feeling my customary craving for Asian noodle packs. We went, I paid an outrageous price for some noodles (though that didn't lessen my enjoyment at all) and came back to party yet some more. At some point Shane announced that it was quarter to five (!!) and I had no poopin' idea where the time had gone. Shortly after that I headed home, although my hosts were kind enough to offer me a space on one of their numerous couches. One of the other little things I love about Leuven is how close everything is. I only had to stumble two blocks home, and I feel pretty safe here, so I opted for my own bed. There were still people there when I left, God bless them.
I had to wake up at 9 this morning to catch a train to this place Vilvoorde before 10. This was all very hard in my rough condition, but there's this package that has been floating around in the Taxipost system for about a week now, and though they tried to deliver it twice, I ultimately had to just go get it. The trip was interesting. I had to go to Brussels Noord to catch another train to Vilvoorde, but the trains run like clockwork here so it was easy-peazy. When I finally got to Vilvoorde, which is a charming and beautiful place I wouldn't otherwise have thought of, I had to walk for about half an hour (asking directions from everyone but finally only getting them from a very nice Policeman) to get into this industrial zone (just passed a crematorium) where Taxipost has its station. The walk into the industrial park was long and scary, especially given my fragile state, but I finally got there and received my birthday card from my Mom, which was a really nice bonus.
I was so tired when I got there that I called a cab for the ride back, which cost me a fortune (I won't even tell you how much it's so offensive) but the cabby was French speaking so I got to practice ("Ici ca bien, monsieur, merci.") and he dropped me off in the Grote Markt of Vilvoorde. It was filled with the Saturday market, which consisted of a lot of food stands and clothes trailers, so I grabbed a hamburger and sat on a curb. Best damn hamburger of my life, let me tell you, with the carmelized onions and everything. It was altogether a very pleasant experience. After a brief look at the shops (much less pricey than in Leuven, I think I will be back to Vilvoorde) I caught two trains back home.
I barely make it back to my apartment, collapse into my bed, and Marianne calls me. The three of them are going to Ikea. Now, my clothes are all on the floor and draped over my closet doors, and I need a reading light like no one's business, so I reluctantly agree and off I go for more domestic travel. It was fun, honestly. The three of them are a great group. Shane is from Kentucky, and has inexplicable sympathies with the Anglo-analytical strain of philosophy. Phillip is from the Boston area and come to think of it I don't know his specialty, and Marianne is from Halifax, so it's really a fun North American group. We managed to get out of the Saturday Ikea crush in about an hour and a half, and Phil and I had some 50cent hot dogs which just made me feel worlds better. Altogether, it was a pretty good day, expensive but good. Marianne (poor thing) was meeting her boyfriend at the airport later in the evening and he wanted to go out again that night, which from my perspective was just crazy. Nonetheless, I probably would have gone if I hadn't been dead to the world by the time she called me. At any rate, I'm having some kind of fun here in Leuven. I think my lonely days are over.
Today, I am planning to finish my accounts, do laundry and just read, read, read. I think my body requires a tremendous amount of rest now, so I will sign off. I hope all is well with you all!
Cake
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