A Sign from Above

Yesterday was the kind of day (with regard to weather) that makes you feel lucky to be alive. It was that perfect temperature, warm in the sun with a stiff cool breeze, and not a cloud to be seen. I decided to go for a walk in the royal park, bring a book, get some ice cream, make an outing out of it.

After a nice walk, I got an ice cream cone and sat down at the perfect empty table, partially in the sun, partially in the shade. I was concentrating on not letting the dripping ice cream get all over me and thinking to myself: "Today, I really like Brussels." No sooner had I finished that thought in my head... *SPLAT* A bird shit (or shat?) on my table, the splatter narrowly missing my purse. And I mean a big shit. That thing rocked the table!

I laughed, a little stunned, wondering if I should move (but where to? All of the other tables were taken) or if I should worry about getting a special delivery on my head or even in my purse. Is bird poop like lightening? Will it strike the same place twice?

I tried to maintain my calm, ice cream-in-the-park attitude, but all I could think about was what would I do if a bird pooped on my head, like, would I laugh or cry? Would I take the metro home or walk? And so, the mood was effectively ruined and I decided to head home.

So what do you think, was it a sign?

This probably shouldn't be funny, but...

I can't stop laughing!

Camera Troubles...

So I have had bad luck with cameras lately! I bought my camera (a nice little Canon Powershot SD870 IS) 2 years ago, and up until recently it has served me very well. Now, not so much.

First, the screen started to give out, strips of pixels just died. Then more patches were gone! Because the camera doesn't have an optical viewfinder, this is very annoying. But ok, I was willing to deal with it, since the spots didn't show up on my pictures. Fine.

Well, I decided to break out the camera yesterday to try to capture a pic of Cleo and Sophie getting their play on. I was taking pictures and video, no problem... until I decided to look at them. In every picture there was a fuzzy black line from the top of the screen to the bottom, and it was darker when I had the camera zoomed in. Ok, I thought, maybe it's just the camera and it won't show up on the pictures! WRONG. Examples:
It's just my luck, too, that the flower carpet is this year! It only happens every other year, and here is a picture someone else took of it:So while normally I would be content enough to wait a few months and save for a camera, all I can think of now is NEED CAMERA NOW. It doesn't help that after playing around with Dad's camera for a while, I am seriously coveting a Canon Powershot G11.

Time to get schem- er, saving...

Observation

The weather has been really lovely here the last few days, and it has put me in a great mood! I was walking around in the sunshine 2 days ago, going to check out DOD (why have I not gone there before?) and I was paying no attention to the sidewalk. Then it occurred to me: It is risky to walk along and pay no attention to the sidewalk in Brussels. One of two things will imminently happen. 1) You trip on the cobblestones, or 2) step in dog poo.

Ah, the sad truths of living in Brussels. Good thing there's plenty of chocolate!

Shooting and Palais de Justice

Well, apparently Brussels is going to shit.

Miguel has been following the news a lot more closely in his new job, and just called to tell me that two people were JUST shot dead at the Palais de Justice; one judge and one court employee. At around 11am. On a Thursday. A beautiful sunny Thursday. WHAT THE HELL? Here's the info.

Last Friday night there was also a stabbing in Place Flagey. No one was killed, but three injured.

Finally, I only recently found out about an attack at the Porte de Namur metro, MY metro stop, on New Years Eve 2009/10. One man was attacked and thrown from a good height onto the tracks. Though he survived, this attack probably scares me most of all.

OH. MY. GOD. WANT.

Please, oh pleeeeeease someone get this for me!!!

Of Crime Shows and Imaginations

So I really have an obscene amount of things I need to post about, not the least of which is my parents' visit now almost two weeks ago (le sigh), but I wanted to start with this.

I have come to the conclusion that I watch way too many crime shows. This is a fairly new thing for me, since I had never watched an episode of any of the acronym shows (the CSIs, NCIS) or the others: Bones, Criminal Minds, Castle, The Mentalist while in the US. Since moving here, however, it's all I watch, granted, it's the only thing that's on other than reruns of According to Jim or Charmed. So now Miguel and I have several "crime nights" a week.

Now, I fancy myself pretty used to seeing violent acts and stuff on tv, I don't really squirm when seeing a particularly gruesome body (though I usually choose not to eat much during those), nor do I have nightmares. Unfortunately, however, I think my tolerance is wearing off.

I have always been wary of going into a dark (supposedly) empty house or building (i.e. when house sitting, or during a power outage), but now my imagination is getting more vivid. When letting myself into the basement of the cafe, I often turn the lights on and look around for a body. When I get upstairs and open the bathroom or storage room door, I do the same thing, waiting to hear the heavy thud of something grisly falling out.

Now, today, not 20 minutes ago, my crazy imagination reared its ugly head here in my apartment. I had just stepped out of the shower, when I heard a heavy knock on the door. Not being prepared for a visitor, and kinda panicking, I yelled (in English) "Who is it??" No answer. I heard footsteps, and then a far off knock, probably upstairs. I tried to put it out of my mind despite my pounding heart and get on with my post-shower ablutions. No sooner had I turned on my hair dryer, there was another loud KNOCK-KNOCK, and no footsteps. I tiptoed by the door in my bathrobe with no intention of opening the door, all the while cursing my lack of peep-hole and praying that this was not some kind of attacker that could break through the door after realizing that there was no one else in the building. I waited silently for a while, listening, feeling my heart beat faster and harder than normal. After a while I heard the footsteps retreating back down the stairs and I breathed a sigh of relief.

I would live, at least for now, to see another crime show.

A little Introspection

Indecision. I have to wonder if it plagues anyone other than me, though I know deep down that it does.

I am so torn between whether I am self-centered and selfish to a fault, or selfless to the point of sacrificing my own happiness for that of others (or, in some cases, just one other). How do I know which? Or is it both, each being spurred on by the other.

All of my life I have been plagued by indecisiveness. When asked to pick a stuffed animal or 2 to have on my bed, I had to have all of them so as to hurt no ones’ feelings. When asked what was my favorite day of the week, my answer was all of them for different reasons (assignment failed). When asked what I wanted to be when I grew up, I had 5 or more answers, depending on the day. I always thought that when I grew up, I would somehow know what it was that I wanted to do, whether it turned out to be veterinarian, marine biologist, concert organizer, writer... but the older I got, the more confused I became.

Every time I decided to focus on something new, I would make it to a certain stage, and then it would cease to be fun, or, what I had imagined it to be. Just like when I went to Sunday school at the local synagogue and quit the moment we started to actually learn Hebrew. I’m not sure if I lack the drive or focus, or if I just like too many things.

As it turns out, one of the upsides of this particular personality trait is that I’ve become a bit of a renaissance man (er, girl). I know a lot about a lot, just not enough about any one thing to be any kind of expert. I can tell you all about the parts of a cell, talk knowledgeably about taxonomy, quote many great writers, tell you all about music from the Middle Ages to what is playing on the radio as I type this. I can skillfully clean an espresso machine, snake a drain, train a cat, cook a delicious coq au vin. I can do all these things and more, but where does all the fit in on a CV/resume?

I feel that I have been trapped by Brussels. When people ask me how I, an American, came to live here, I find it hard to tell them the truth. I came here for my husband. I came here for him and for his job without a second thought to what I would do. Sure, I had TEFL certification, but did I really want to teach? No. It was merely a plan for something I could do until something better came along, though I still have no idea what that was supposed to be. I’ve lived here for 1 1/2 years, and I have never had both feet in the country. I have ideas like opening up an English language bookstore, or starting an English language newspaper, but I know those will take time, and I plan on being out of here in 2 years, maximum.

So what’s left for me here? I’m teaching a lesson or 2 a week, working part time (very part time) at a cafe and doing a tiny amount of baking (for said cafe), and I’m doing some babysitting on the side. Though I’ve applied for many an office job (at the US Embassy and NATO) I don’t really have the right skill set (or interest) for those kinds of jobs to make me all that happy. I don’t want to work for a big corporation, or a consultancy, and I really have no interest in public diplomacy. It doesn’t help matters that my French is barely functional. (I am really quite good at stating what I do not want and what I am not good at, but not so good at the opposite.) So, as it turns out, Brussels is not the best place for little old me.

But there I go, blaming Brussels, when, wouldn’t it be similar (if not just the same) anywhere I go? My indecisiveness would come right back to bite me in the ass, and I would be right back to where I am no, just at a different locale. What does this mean for my future? Am I doomed to work at jobs I am unhappy in (or, perhaps simply bored by) for the rest of my life? Should I just bite the bullet and get the non-ideal job, knowing that it does not have to be permanent, just so I have something to do with my time (not to mention an income)? Am I clinging too hard to my principles to let myself even have half a chance?

1 Kiss, or 2? (Or maybe 3?)

As an American in Europe, I encounter all kinds of cultural differences and I try to adapt accordingly. These include everything from table manners (eating everything on the plate vs. stopping when full) to how direct to be when asking a favor (extreme American politeness vs. being straightforward to to the point). I have found problems with one, in particular, that until recently I remained silent about. Kissing people on the cheek. I have no problem with the custom, in fact, I think it's nice! No, my problem lies in the awkwardness of the nuances in that custom.

Some people kiss on 1 cheek. Right or left. Some kiss on both, right then left, or vice versa. Then you get into the 3 kisses, right left right? Left right left? Which way you go and how many often depends on the nationality of the person you are dealing with. But then, if a French person meets a Dutch person, whose style gets precedence? As an American, do I get a say in the style? If I start going left, does the other person have to go left? What if we both go in the wrong direction and bump noses (or worse, lips?)? What if I go for one, they go for 2, and I look like I don't like them, because I can only stand for 1 kiss? Or what about the opposite? If I go for another kiss and come on too strong? Or what if they don't do the kiss thing at all, and are really just going for a hug and I get it all wrong? Oh, the anxiety!

And then there's the kind of kiss. There's the actual full contact kiss on the cheek, the cheek touching and kissy noises (but no actual kissing), there's the cheek touch, but no kissy noises, the air kiss with no touching of the faces... I'm sure there are more, and all add to the anxiety fo these social encounters! So what if I go for a full on kiss on the cheek and totally offend someone who wants nothing to do with my lips on their face?

And then you get into how soon do you kiss people? Normally there's one meeting with just a hand shake and then after that kisses are fair game. But what if this is a business associate? A client? A friend of a friend? How many meetings does it take to get to that level of familiarity? Do people get offended if I get it wrong?

Perhaps there should be a standard way of doing it? Or if that is no good, what about a list of guidelines for the outsider (erm, me) so I don't feel so flustered every time I say hello or goodbye to someone and end up feeling completely awkward!

Though I have to say, I feel better knowing that this is a problem for others, including other Europeans! The Irish, the Germans, the French, the Dutch! I'm not alone! Still, though, I would love to have a version of the kiss greeting to stick to that could at least be somewhat universal. Anyone else?

Newspapers in Belgium

To whomever reads this in Brussels, or really, anywhere in Belgium...

I know there are daily newspapers like Le Soir and De Standaard online as well as the less regular Bulletin and Flanders Today, but do you feel the need for a more regular local newspaper in English? I find that I settle for not knowing what is going on around me rather than look online or try to decipher newspapers in other languages. Yesterday's incident made me realize that if the incident had not happened so close to me, I doubt I would have known about it at all. It really made me realize how little I know about the goings on in the country I live in.

So here's the question: If there was an English language free daily paper, would you pick it up? Read it? Even get it delivered? I'd love to hear any opinions.