I don’t what’s wrong with me, but I feel really blah. Maybe it’s the weather or the lack of human contact.
I don’t know. But the whole school ending black hole thing has engulfed me. I think it’s not helping that some of my friends are accomplishing things that I wish I could accomplish. That sounds really petty and jealous, I know.
Unrelated, but possibly related, married life is weird. News Flash! You can’t just go out and do whatever you want anymore. There’s that other person you have to consider. For example, I found this video the other day on youtube:
Then I had all these great visions of me getting a cockatiel and training it to whistle star wars tunes and possibly curse words in 3 languages. Then “Dr. No” struck.
There would be no bird since we already have 5 chinchillas (even though we have a ginormous house that could shelter many more animals). This is when marriage is annoying. I wanted that damn bird! D and I have very different ideas on animals apparently. So of all the good you get from marriage there are downsides: no more doing random things (like getting a bird) spur of the moment to fulfill cool visions thanks to youtube.
Damn where did the last month go? Oh wait, school was eating up every waking second of my life. I just got done with my last hard class, the senior capstone. It’s pretty much where you pull together all of the information you have learned throughout your bachelor’s degree, try to remember everything and write about some aspect of it. I had to do the mother of all research papers on perhaps the most boring of topics: assessments. It was basically me droning on and on about how standardized tests are harmful and zapping the last remains of creativity left in our students. Then I had to analyze what makes a test good. I am so glad it’s over. I was seriously writing like 9 hours a day. I don’t know how other people in my class worked and took care of their families in the mean time. I was struggling and I have the luck and luxury of no job and just a husband (who had to eat scraps for a few weeks). I am still waiting for my final grade. Not counting that paper I had a 99% percent in the class. But the paper is worth 30% of the overall grade so I have everything crossed still. I just started my very last class of University so there is light at the end of the tunnel! yay!
Which brings me to: OH MY GOD! I AM IN MY LAST CLASS! WHAT WILL I DO WITH MY LIFE WHEN IT’S ALL OVER!?!?!
I’m kinda freaking out. School has been my creative outlet and has given some human contact in English. It will probably be the last time I am able to work only with Americans. But getting my bachelor’s also means I should be doing something significant with my life. But that’s kinda impossible until I learn French. I feel really weird about it. Not depressed but really gray area. What fuck am I supposed to do now?
In other news, we are still plugging away at the house. Buying furniture, ect. We still have the dumbest couch ever: the Ikea Solsta. We bought it as a place holder until we can buy something more fabulous (aka NOT from Ikea). But it’s really terrible. If it wasn’t for our bed I’d say it’s the most uncomfortable peice of furniture ever designed!
Speaking of the most uncomfortable piece of furniture ever designed, I give you our bed:
We thought it would be ok and it seemed cool because you can adjust the top part and pull it upwards if you like to read in bed. But the slats are HORRIBLE. they sag a lot and we both roll into the center when we are sleeping and start elbowing and kicking each other. Now I understand why people on talk shows wanted divorces over sleeping problems with their partners. D and I wanted to kill each other because we were both not able to sleep. Adding the “valley of doom” (as we came to call the sagging bedframe) to D’s snoring and my tossing, turning and blanket stealing-it was getting pretty bad. When we realized that there could be a murder over this bed we decided to just pull the mattress on to the floor and call it a day. It’s really sad that a mattress ON THE FLOOR is more comfortable than a 200 euro bed! So we have decided to get a new one and are going to pull out all the stops: new mattress and new bed (and 700 hundred euros down the drain). So dream couch may be on hold a bit longer…
Before my class got really intense D and I did do a little sightseeing in Lille, Tournai and Waterloo. Lille was ok, I think it’s really pretty but I am glad we didn’t end up there. It’s too big city-ish for me: noise, traffic, bums, ect. I really like it as a place to go and hang for the day. I loved Tournai and Waterloo. They are medium/small sized towns and really lovely. I wish we would have seen them before settling on Mons. Waterloo is picture perfect suburbs while Tournai reminds me of Verona. We went to the WWII museum there and saw a lot of cool artifacts from the war. They even had a Wrigley’s gum wrapper from a U.S. soldier. Weirdly it looks exactly like the ones today…conspiracy???
We didn’t do much on Valentine’s day because of the weather (a common theme developing?), but D made the day special by buying me a guitar! I have been bitching and moaning about getting any musical instrument for years so I think he finally had enough-heehee. I am way excited and D has been showing me the basics, but I got side tracked with school so I haven’t improved. But I have plans to start rigorously practicing and I even have a lead on some lessons by a local musician. I can’t believe I don’t have a picture of it yet, but here is the one from the store where we go it:
Last but not least, here are some really cute pics I took of the chinzillas when the sun decided to peak out from the clouds for a few minutes:
I am really liking the lifestyle here. Could the people be any nicer? Seriously! I am still nowhere with French but that will be changing soon because the house is pretty much organized. We still need to buy a couch (the small temporary ikea one is killing us), a desk for D and loads of book shelves. But I would say we are 80% unpacked. We would eventually like to get a game table like pool or foosball for upstairs and I want to make a crafting corner but all that is extra and has no time constraints. Also the light fixtures! Gag, we need new pretty ones. We also need to finish the “toilet room” literally, a 2×2 room with just a toilet and a gas station style sink with only cold water as an option (needless to say, we wash our hands elsewhere and use our elbows to get out). I don’t get it, but apparently that’s normal here. We found a lime green toilet seat (that should always ALWAYS be the first thing you replace in a rental!). It made us laugh hysterically and was marked down 50% so we are building the world’s ugliest toilet room around that. So far we found a matching towel (that may never get use until we can get hot water in there), bowl scrubber (essential since the water level in the loo is dangerously low) and a lime toilet paper roll dispenser which currently is clashing horribly with the pink paper in it (D’s purchase). I’m excited though! I love our house and it feels good to just chill at home. In Verona I always felt like we needed to go out, which means spend loads of money. I wonder if it was the lifestyle or just because we hated our glorified walk-in closet of an apartment? I do miss Verona now and then, but I feel like Mons is better for having a “normal life”. No fur coat mobs of rich ladies and that keeping up with Jones’ mentality. I don’t feel judged here, I feel like I blend in. I also like that Mons is a little rough around the edges. It’s not dirty, but it’s not postcard perfect like Verona. It’s broken in I guess you could say.
I also feel like a human being when dealing with public officials.The police came the other day and I told them I didn’t speak French. They apparently didn’t speak English but Italian saved the day! Seriously there are tons of Italians and Italian descendants around here. Apparently loads came here after WWII to work in the mines. You can put money on it that someone will know English, Italian or both. You hear Italian much more than English though. It’s kinda nice. Who knew Italian would save the day when dealing with the 5-0? One of the few times we have been out to eat we went to an Italian place and were treated like rock stars for speaking Italian. We were struggling at first in french, but then D’s mamma called in the midst of the confusion and saved the day. When the waiter heard his roman accent I thought they were gonna hug or something. It was kinda surreal. But all the waitstaff, cooks and owners were Italian and we got the hookup with free limoncello, real coffee and an invitation to come back whenever. The owners came out to talk about Italy, the food and why we were here. It was so cool! My Italian skills at work (in Belgium?).
But everyone is really nice and HELPFUL. When I went to get my permesso di soggiorno in Rome, we waited for HOURS in 100 degree heat, behind a barbed wire fence with 300 hundred other people (some normal and some scary!). Once you finally got in to the actual building to turn in your paperwork you met the most UNHELPFUL, RUDEST police behind 6 inches of glass who had no answers to your questions and were extremely impatient. Also the building was filthy and the majority of the chairs were broken. So yesterday when D and I went to the foreigners office to register me, I was kinda nervous. Who knew what would be waiting for us? We pulled up to the communal building. Inside we were greeted by 3 really perky receptionists who helped us in English (I never expect people to know English, but it’s interesting and helpful that they do know it-yay belgians! I promise to learn french soon!). They made sure we weren’t with SHAPE (as 99% of English speakers here work for the NATO base here) and they pointed us to the Estangers (strangers) office since we are really “strangers” and not SHAPERS who go to a different office. We take a number and go upstairs. As soon as we get out of the elevator our number is called. We walk into the “strangers” room and are greeted by 3 people who work in the office. We are welcomed to sit down and they ask us how they can help. We were the only people there! How weird! Between D’s French and their English we got it all figured out in about 7 minutes (WHAT?) All I needed was my passport and our marriage certificate. Then she said I’ll get a paper in the mail and when I do come back and I’ll be able to get my carta (I think it’s the equivalent to the Carta di soggiorno in Italy, but this one is specifically for family members of EU citizens). Easy-peasy. They wished us well and we were in and out in less than 20 mins. My Italy self curses my Belgian self: “not only do you have access to cheddar, doritos, the world’s best fries and green curry, but you don’t have endless bureaucratic red tape!?”
I love, love, love coffee. Sadly the days of strolling to the bar under our house for a tasty cappuccino are OVER. Because the coffee here truly tastes like crap (If you know somewhere it doesn’t taste like crap around here, let me know!) I wonder if it has to do with it all coming out of an automatic machine? Like at the gas station? But we went to a bar and it still tasted bad. The only time it didn’t was when we stopped off at a autogrill-esque place and they had an actual espresso machine behind the bar (you had to get past all the automatic vending machine ones first though). We had the lady just pull a shot and it was ok, not perfect, but drinkable.
So this means I drink coffee in the safty of our own home. It’s not too hard since we have every machine under the sun (except a French Press which strangely I can’t find here! I know, wtf! You’d think with France being visible out of my window it wouldn’t be a problem!).
Since our beautiful Nespresso is out of pods (tears) and we are too lazy to drive to either Lille or Brussels to get more, I have been experimenting in alternative modes to get caffeine. My current obsession is cold brewed coffee. Basically you just take 1 cup of coffee grounds and mix it with 3 cups of water. You can make however much you want, just keep a 1-3 ratio. I use the cheapest, grossest coffee in our cupboard because when you cold brew it tastes way better than it would if you made it in a moka or normal coffeemaker. For some reason brewing it cold makes it way less acidy and the flavor comes out more.
Step one:
Mix your 1 cup of coffee with 3 cups of water in a jug. Here I just used the pot from my coffee maker. Stir and put in the fridge overnight.
In the morning, filter the grounds. I use a regular coffee filter and an Ikea jug.
It’s kinda a slow process, so if you are impatient I would just buy a french press.
After it’s all filtered, just add ice and a 1-1 ratio of your coffee and milk. The rest in your jug can be refrigerated. It’ll last a week or so, but most likely it will be gone by the time it goes off.
Well there was Christmas. We didn’t have much to do not being religious so we decided to go to Brussels for the day:
(Click through if you are reading email or a reader and can’t see a video)
Following Christmas we rented a huge van and drove 18 hours to Verona to get our stuff from storage. We found the cheapest ever rental place in Brussels. The downside was the office was highly unorganized and it took over an hour just to get the van. While D was standing in line these skeeze ball dudes came in and cut in front of everyone. People were pissed, especially us because we were next in line. D re-cut in front of them then they got the hint. But they were acting all weird and standing uncomfortable close to us. I went to sit down and two of them kept looking over D’s shoulder and getting close to him. Then one tried to pick his pocket! Right in front my face and in a crowded waiting room! I jump out of my seat and loudly went and told D was just happened. They backed off then were glaring at me the rest of the time. It seemed like I was trapped in that rental office for hours with these douche bags. I thought I was going to turn homicidal. I hate big cities! They tend to attract the scum of the earth. The next disgusting situation came we we climbed into the rental van. It was gross: empty wrappers, food and dog hair all over the seats. A bunch of pigs rented this before us. The good news it was a brand new van, so I wasn’t too worried about it actually making the trip to and from Italy. We drove it to the nearest gas station and bleached the interior. Then we were good to go. It took us about 18-20 hours to get to Verona because of the snowy weather in France and Switzerland. We stayed in Verona that night and piled our stuff in the next morning. From there we went to Rome to get the Chinchillas and other stuff we had at his parents. We only stayed a few hours then were on the road again. We drove straight through this time and it was insane. We were both dead. And we still had an entire van to unload once we got back to Mons. Some how we did it. The unload was horrible as we are on the second floor and there is no elevator D and I made a promise that we won’t move again unless we A) sell everything we own and start over in the new place or B) can afford to have someone move all our shit for us. So no more moving!
Since then we have been basically settling in and trying to unpack and get organized. The unpacking is slow because we are getting furniture piece by piece, but we will get there eventually.
Another weird thing to happen is I have been cooking, a lot! It’s weird because just a month ago my personal slogan was “I’m and eater, not a cooker!” But something has come over me!? I have made banana bread, snicker-doodles, chili, burritos, chicken fajitas, green curry, gourmet hamburgers and brownies to name a few. I also have been cold brewing coffee! It will be great in the summer, especially.
I love to eat. Plain. Simple. When I think about traveling the first thing that comes to mind is “oohh what is there to eat?”. I love trying new, different and strange dishes. I’ll eat anything once. I am definitely NOT a picky eater. So it probably comes as no surprise that the first thing I would do in Belgium is eat:
After I was properly fed, we took a jaunt around Mons. I really like it! Small and cute. I don’t understand why it has such a bad reputation.
The next day we woke up to this: (If you are reading in a reader or email click through so you don’t miss out!)
Then we decided to drive to France! It’s weird to say that. We went to Valenciennes so I could see where D works and where we almost decided to live (I like Mons more, but Valenciennes has a Subway sandwich place):
We then went grocery shopping so I could see what goodies Belgium has as compared to Italy. Talk about food over load! There was pretty much everything my little junk food heart desired: cherry coke, golden grahams, CHEDDAR CHEESE!, doritos, lays chips in every flavor! and even EGG NOG! At one point D had to stop me from sitting down in the middle of the store crying tears of joy over all the food that was just sitting there on the shelf, nonchalantly. No more having to take a train, 2 buses and a metro to get to Castroni’s only to be disappointed for the lack of selection and disgusted over how overpriced everything is (3 euros for tomato soup!?). I’m very very happy. In true American glutton style we ate at Dominos pizza for dinner and the next day at Subway (meatball sub for the win!).
In other news, I find the people really nice and patient with our abysmal French. I am actually kind of jealous of D because he can actually say a few phrasebook sentences. I need to catch up!
So it’s my last night here in with the inlaws I am spreading my wings and leaving the nest to Belgium. I think D’s mom is kinda sad. She told me today that she sees me as a real daughter, no different from her own kids. That was really cool. I have enjoyed my month and a half here with them. Getting to know them better, going out and just being around the house. They were always warm to me, even when I couldn’t say a word in Italian or understand anything-the love they showed me didn’t need words to be understood. But now that I can communicate I feel a lot closer to them. I can laugh at their jokes, especially when D’s dad calls his mom “grizzly”. Which I am assuming comes from the bear-like noise she makes when she sleeps. The other day his mom was in the shower and D’s dad was watching tv (in the kitchen of course, Italian style) and I asked if I could turn the faucet on, because I wasn’t sure if it would make the water in the shower cold (old plumbing). He was like “Ha, of course, the grizzly won’t feel the difference”. I laugh every time I think about it. It’s amazing that they have been married like 37 years and still know how to have a good time.
I will miss eating lunch and dinner as a family. Not just because his mom is an excellent cook, but just having that time to talk and reflect about the day, and just be together. I never really had that growing up so I didn’t know what I was missing. I want to make that apart of my and D’s day too (well, dinner anyway).
It’s been cool seeing how a real family is, the super mom and the funny dad. I liked being 14 again and having parents, well, caring about me. I don’t mean in general, but like “did you eat and do your homework?” lol.
So goodbye Italy for now. Who knows what other adventures are in store in Belgium, or elsewhere. If D’s mom had her way, I am sure I would be leaving with a lasagna hidden in my luggage…actually I should probably go check, she seemed really concerned about what we would be eating when I got up there and how much my luggage weighed…
So as of yesterday I am officially 26. Craziness! The years just fly by. Seriously I was 16 like yesterday! So in honor of me officially being closer to 30 than 20 here is my year in review:
This year I finally admitted to myself I am an atheist. For along time I classified myself as being on a “spiritual journey” since I just could not accept all the contradictions and irrationality of Christianity. I thought that maybe I have just not found the right religion for me. One day I realized that all religions are bullshit and let’s acknowledge it and get on with life. I actually feel a lot freer and positive about life without some sky daddy making me feel guilty about everything. Obviously there is a lot more to it than that, but science won in the battle for jessica’s “soul”. (please don’t take offense. These are my personal feelings and I have respect for other people’s beliefs, ect. so have respect for mine even if you don’t agree with them).
This year I officially caught baby fever. Meeting the cutest baby in the world: My nephew Ryan and having countless friends get pregnant I couldn’t resist obsessing over possible names and other what ifs about our future child. But I haven’t stopped taking my birth control or anything and some days I think I would like having a puppy instead a baby. Obviously, I have a lot to think about before we venture into parenthood.
This year also saw D and I consider our life in Italy and whether it was something we wanted to continue. He was sick of being grossly underpaid in the Military and I just never really adapted. This could be that I have ADHD about everything, but I can’t help but feel there are more opportunities for the both of us outside the Bel Paese. We debated moving to the states, but ended up in Belgium.
Chinzilla Galore! Our Chinchilla family exploded from 1 to 5 this year. Even at 5 I want more and more, seriously they are the cutest things ever. Luckily D keeps me from becoming the crazy rodent lady that I know I am.
I had to say farewell to a lot of family this year. Firstly, my grandpa who passed away in the summer. I am very thankful I got to go home and say a proper goodbye. For the others it was a personal decision. I pretty much cut a bunch of people out of my life who drag me down and I feel a lot lighter for it. Yes it’s sad, but I think family relationships should be treated like any other relationship. If it’s hurtful, abusive and keeps you in alternating states of depression and anxiety then it needs to be cut loose. Take no prisoners! For Darwin’s sake, I am 26 it’s time to start living the life I want and be surrounded by people who build me up, instead of tearing me down.
To celebrate my two-six the inlaws took me out for sushi/thai/chinese food at this weird place called wok. It was really good. The sushi wasn’t the best in the world but I liked the set up. The Chinese part was buffet style with all the normal Chinese fare: egg rolls, chow mien, rice, ect. Then you could pick out your own raw ingredients and take them to this guy who looked EXACTLY like Bruce Lee and he would cook them in front of you in a big wok (Katie and other Spokaners it’s exactly like huhut). Highlights were D’s mom eating WAY to much wasabi sauce and nearly throwing up and when the waitress asked D’s parents if I was an exchange student. It was really funny. It was kinda sad not having D there but I am making him make it up to me with a trip to Paris or maybe Brugge. I had a lot of fun with the inlaws though, not only yesterday but these past 6-7 weeks. That’s a whole other post though…
That’s about all I can think of right now.. but I would just like to let the universe know I am looking forward to what 26 brings me, even if I am getting hella old.
PS. T minus 4 days til I am getting sloppy drunk in Belgium!
Bonjour. Yeah that’s about the extend of my French right now and every time I say it though D critiques me like a real French person might. He actually said my pronunciation was horrid. I can’t even say hello-sad. Although I am Michel Thomasing. For those who have no idea what that means, it’s a language learning audio “system”. Basically you have Michel (or MEEE-Shell) as the teacher and 2 other students who pretty much suck as much as you do. You are the third student. And weirdly, even though I know Michel and the others can’t hear me, he always knows when I mess up on pronunciation. It’s kinda creepy. You’ll be trying to repeat a word and a big, booming “NO!” blasts into your earphones. So I’ve done like an hour so far. I’m committed-haha. No I am, but I am a procrastinator by nature so advanced preparation just feels wrong. Like I need to take a shower after. It goes against my DNA fabric.
CURRENT FRENCH-o-METER RANK:
As you can probably guess, I am ranking near abysmal on my self created French-o-Meter. I am hoping once I am actually, you know, THERE something will magically happen and I will be able to say something else. We’ll see. The good news is D says the Belgian French speakers don’t mind using English with him (unlike the French French speakers he has run into in Valenciennes). So he has been able to do all the boring paper-worky things quite efficiently: get residency, open a bank account, inquire about internet, ect. UNLIKE in some other country I know and love (cough cough Italy) where everything is an icy, uphill battle to the death even if you do speak the language. I guess the red tape is actually green tape in Belgium and the state provides big, sharp scissors for free*.
The only thing we can’t figure out is the garbage. I guess you have to sort it into special colored bags and the garbage men take certain colors on certain days or something. I need to google that.
*Yes, the grass is greener and my glasses are rose colored at the moment….
So…I know on my old blog I told all of you I was moving to France. That WAS the plan. We were going to find an apartment near D’s office in Valenciennes, France so he wouldn’t have to commute, ect ect. The weird thing about his work situation is that the company he works for is Belgian (next door to France for the geography illiterate) but his office is in France in a town near the Belgian border. So when he showed up in Brussels at the company headquarters to finalize his contract and get the company car, they told him we had to live in Belgium. I am fuzzy on the details but it has to do with our health care. It’s private insurance and it will only work if we have residency in Belgium. But it wasn’t that huge of a deal because Valenciennes, where D’s office is, is right on the border. On the other side is Mons where we found an apartment. His inter-country commute is only about 20 mins and the company, along with the car, gives us free gas coupons.
Since I am stuck in Rome with the in-laws D was given the weighty task of finding dream apartment. It was a joint venture between the two of us thanks to the internet and the Century 21 website. I saw 2 that I was in love with and D went to investigate. My favorite one from the pictures turned out to be just as fantastic in real life. So yesterday D signed the lease, left his hotel home of the last 2 weeks and slept on the floor of our news digs. Apartments in Belgium are really similar to those in the states, but very different from the choice in Italy. In the US/Belgium unfurnished is the norm. But there is a full kitchen and appliances. If you want unfurnished in Italy you don’t even get a kitchen sink, or cupboards. It just an empty room with a pipe poking out of the wall. The other option is furnished. And by furnished I mean you are basically moving into someone else’s LIFE. Aside from the beds and couches you get all the knick-knack CRAP and ugly linens. In Italy, everything is an extreme. All (crap) or nothing (wall pipe). So, we have a big ole apartment to fill with OUR things. Which means new couch and other goodies. The next thing that’s different about this apartment is how HUGE it is. In Verona we were paying 535 euros ($790) for 45 square meter (485 sq. feet), one bedroom, one living room the size of a very small bathroom, and NO balconies or views (unless you count the creepy neighbors window).It was a glorified walk in closet. In Belgium, for just $169 more dollars we get 3 floors, 3 bedrooms, 2 balconies, sweeping view of all the city, a HUGE living room, and a parking spot. UM hell yeah. Like the Verona apartment, it is in the center of town, so easy access to everything.
As I sit in the seldom used living room of my in-laws that has my crap strewn about everywhere, I can’t wait to get there.
D and I made a promise that we won’t move again unless we A) sell everything we own and start over in the new place or B) can afford to have someone move all our shit for us. So no more moving!
Bonjour. Yeah that’s about the extend of my French right now and every time I say it though D critiques me like a real French person might. He actually said my pronunciation was horrid. I can’t even say hello-sad. Although I am Michel Thomasing. For those who have no idea what that means, it’s a language learning audio “system”. Basically you have Michel (or MEEE-Shell) as the teacher and 2 other students who pretty much suck as much as you do. You are the third student. And weirdly, even though I know Michel and the others can’t hear me, he always knows when I mess up on pronunciation. It’s kinda creepy. You’ll be trying to repeat a word and a big, booming “NO!” blasts into your earphones. So I’ve done like an hour so far. I’m committed-haha. No I am, but I am a procrastinator by nature so advanced preparation just feels wrong. Like I need to take a shower after. It goes against my DNA fabric.
So…I know on my old blog I told all of you I was moving to France. That WAS the plan. We were going to find an apartment near D’s office in Valenciennes, France so he wouldn’t have to commute, ect ect. The weird thing about his work situation is that the company he works for is Belgian (next door to France for the geography illiterate) but his office is in France in a town near the Belgian border. So when he showed up in Brussels at the company headquarters to finalize his contract and get the company car, they told him we had to live in Belgium. I am fuzzy on the details but it has to do with our health care. It’s private insurance and it will only work if we have residency in Belgium. But it wasn’t that huge of a deal because Valenciennes, where D’s office is, is right on the border. On the other side is Mons where we found an apartment. His inter-country commute is only about 20 mins and the company, along with the car, gives us free gas coupons.