Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Belgium is quite an amazing country.
We have a stuffed government, a country that wants to divide into two or three pieces - I'm not really sure how many, and yet what do those who want to try and unite this country do?
Hang out the Belgian flag from their windows, go on demonstrations to show that those Belgians wanting to keep this country together are serious and plenty more.
Such as.
Well, there hasn't been a National Chocolate-Eating Day as of yet, nor a National Day of Beer-Drinking as that's an everyday sport in itself - nor a National Moules/Frites day. There has, however, been a
National Day of the 'Frite' that was enjoyed by at least 100 people, Quarsan and myself included on August 1st. No guesses as to what was involved.
But the Belgians simply do not stop there as it is quite clear that there are more Belgians wanting to keep this country together than those who don't.
For example there is an extremely good site called
Boobs for Belgium [NSFW - unless you have a boss who understands the situation and has a sense of humour] which states that:
"For our foreign friends; Belgium is in a deep crisis right now, boobs can't solve anything (or can they?), but it's a lot more fun than our politicians BullShit. So send yours to Boobs for Belgium."
Well, boobs are meant to be together and this is one way of uniting Belgium, and just what fun! Via boobs. I
BET you can't guess which are mine. A prize goes to the first person who gets the pair correct. Remember, I have a
massive bosom.
But Belgians simply will not stop there.
Oh no.
There's more. But for the time being - keep guessing.
Labels: Belgium
Monday, August 18, 2008
Healthy eating is NOT good for you.
On Saturday the girls decided to thinly slice some pieces of carrot, celery and place them on a plate next to some clumps of cauliflower. A plate of raw vegetables with cocktail sauce beats eating crisps before a meal anyday; it's supposedly healthy and good for you.
So there we were, enjoying the raw veg - Quarsan included which almost merited a photo as he isn't that fond of anything healthy - until I found that the piece of celery was rather too crunchy. I found it odd as I seemed to be eating bits of something hard, but the plate wasn't chipped so I didn't really worry until I decided to go to the loo.
As I washed my hands I looked up at myself in the mirror and for some reason decided to smile at myself. I've done madder things.
"OH SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT."
"Mama, Mama, Zoe? Are you OK?"
"FUCK NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO."
"What's wrong?"
"I'll tell you what's sodding wrong."
I came out of the loo and smiled sweetly again. The Twat sniggered and scarpered while my daughters ooooooooh and aaaaaaaaahed pathetically as they stared at the hole in the middle of my smile. I'd eaten the cap that fell off my front tooth while eating celery.
CELERY, children. It should come with a Government Health Warning.
Thursday, August 14, 2008
That's ma boy.
Todd came round yesterday showing off his brand new electric guitar that his Dad gave him for his birthday. I swear my Ex really hates me now as I know, just
know that Todd is incapable of keeping the headphones plugged into the monster of a musical instrument thus subjecting the entire household to his version of songs by Blur. The only thing that I can hope for is that Todd will really turn punk and decide that bashing the guitar against the floor will look cool.
We both monkeyed around pretending to be the new age of heavy metal rock stars which involves being a faux blonde with short hair, glasses and wearing really long and baggy tracky bums or a tall, skinny teenager, over-grown hair and spots. I'm quite sure that the look will pick up in the near future.
I told Todd that we could go and see Batman next week which perked him up and then we had one of those mother-to-son chats. I swear that I'm going to have to go on a course or something as I'm hopeless as a mother. I'm an unfit mother, really - as I seem to find myself talking to my kids as if I was a really good friend or something, not a figure of authority.
"Oh yeah, Todd?" [You see, the language is all wrong. "Oh yeah???"]
"Yes mum?"
"You know when we were going to see Batman before on your birthday but you said you felt ill?"
"Yeah, I felt really awful."
"You were at Lucas' house, weren't you, with Michael?"
"Yeah."
"What were you drinking, because I know you don't like wine or beer."
"Nothing."
"Oh, so you ate something that made you ill?"
"No. Well, I only had one glass but it made me feel ill so I didn't have anymore."
"That's good Todd. What were you drinking?"
"Limoncello."
"Oh I love that stuff - but one glass made you feel ill? How big was the glass?"
"It was a big glass - about this big," replied Todd pointing to a whiskey tumbler.
"Oh. Was it full? To the top?"
"Yeah."
"Todd - limoncello is supposed to be drunk in tiny glasses and more than two shots is bound to make you ill - but a whiskey tumbler full??"
"Don't be angry, mum - did Coralie tell you?"
"I'm not, not at all, and Coralie didn't tell me - I guessed. I'm really pleased that you were ill. Teaches you a lesson, doesn't it? I bet you felt sick - and your head ..... Do you know how to avoid a hangover? Drink a litre or two of water before you go to bed after drinking." [Should I be telling him this?]
"Oh. Is that why you always have a bottle of water with your wine?"
"Yep."
"I never want to drink again - I didn't like it."Famous last words - especially as Todd then went on to tell me about the night at Scout Camp that he bought a litre and half bottle of Martini, shared it with a friend and got completely trashed, then they both threw up everywhere. He's not too proud of that though.
I'm not really that worried - the boy is only fifteen, but I'll keep a sharper eye on him now.
But a whiskey tumbler of limoncello?
I was in uncontrollable fits of laughter for the rest of the day.
Now these mothering courses - where should I sign up.
Labels: Todd
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Wheelies.
Isn't office furniture great? Especially the chairs with wheels on, such as the one that I am sitting on right now. Sometimes the Twat wheels me around the house on my chair, practising, no doubt, for the day that he'll be pushing me around an old people's home in a wheelchair.
Last night was slightly disturbing though. Too lazy to get up and put my empty wine bottle into the Pink Bucket behind me, I pushed myself back from the table while still sitting on my chair, bottle in hand. Except that I pushed myself with such force that I half wheelied back until the chair fell over completely, bashing my head against the cupboard behind me and then, as I slunk to the floor still in a sitting position on my chair my shoulders made a rather nasty impact against the cupboard.
"I'M ALRIGHT," I yelled downstairs as the Twat does worry when he hears a loud crash - and I was desperate for him not to see me sitting on a chair that was lying on the floor.
Rubbing my head I got up and carried on typing when the Twat suddenly appeared.
"Oh it was nothing, Q, I'm fine."
"What happened?"
"Nothing, really. I just fell over with my chair and hit my head and shoulders against the cupboard. I'm fine though."
The Twat looked at me in disbelief.
"You did WHAT?"
"It was an accident. I was putting my bottle into my Pink Bucket but I fell over on the chair."
A huge grin started to slowly spread across the Twat's face and then he put his head in his hands and shook his head from side to side, laughing. Laughing a lot.
And that's why I yell that I'm OK. To avoid THAT.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Vegetable carving.
Vegetable carving.
Originally uploaded by zoeinbrussels.You may be wondering what the hell has got into me - many people do. But if you visit Belgian Waffle you can join in her virtual Village Fete. If you think I'm barking, then take a look at her superbly-written blog and you may understand why we get on. Although I think she's totally crackers - or on something that I could do with.
This is my entry, in the Vegetable Carving section.
I bet I win.
Monday, August 11, 2008
Socialites.
We were incredibly social last week. That is, for us.
On Wednesday, the Twat and I met up with the
Preene Family in the Grand Place for a well-earned beer as it had been a rather hot day for us and even hotter for the Preenes as they had been wandering all around Brussels visiting museums that I never go to and making the usual statement about how small the Mannekin Pis is. My usual retaliation to this is to give them an ever smaller one which fitted nicely into Robin's pocket.
They were such wonderful company that I suddenly found myself inviting them to my home for a barbecue the following day to which Robin was very enthusiastic as he really wanted to see my triangular house. You see, just because my house only has three sides to it Robin automatically thought a long, long time ago that it must be triangular. He never thought that I may be poor and live in a
semi-detached house. The fourth side belongs to my neighbours.
Well, as Thursday wore on, the clouds got heavier and heavier and then started to leak, as they do when you plan a barbecue. So with a bit of quick thinking as to how to cook for seven people oh hell I can't even cook for five what am I going to do as spaghetti is a bit naff and I can't cook a roast to save my life I know: a RACLETTE! Perfect. I carried on watching 4400.
When the Preenes announced that they were on their way, the Twat and I went to the supermarket, grabbed different cheeses and hams, pickles, loads of wine, drinks for the kids who are so well-behaved that I want them and met the family off the metro. As we sat with our apperitif with the French doors slightly open to allow a breeze into the house while it was pissing down outside, Robin, content that my house is
not triangular said:
"This is like camping."WTF?
"You can hear the steady fall of rain outside and feel that cool breeze," he carried on,
"and as we look outside at the rain it feels as though we're camping; sitting in a tent."I see. So now my house is a tent. What refrained me from getting the camping table from the cellar was down to laziness. The man was lucky. So were Zoe and Jake who were nearly shot by the Twat opening a bottle of fizzy stuff for them. With corks exploding, red wine and conversation flowing and everybody cooking their own meal, I thought it was a lovely evening and would welcome back the Preene family anyday.
It's a shame that Robin came down with food poisoning the next day.
Friday, August 08, 2008
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TODD
The little brat isn't quite so little now and hovers over all of us while booming at us all with that ghastly broken voice. He's finally fifteen although I expect that he's already forgotten that, spent a late night out with friends yesterday, the consequences of which he was sick and we won't be taking him to see Batman. Well, not today, anyway.
In the meantime, I hope that he enjoys the day even though he may have his head in a bucket for most of it.
Have a great day, Todd.
I've just realised that it's the 8/8/8 - and the number eight is very lucky in China. I wonder if it will affect Todd in any way for the coming year - in a good way, of course.Labels: Todd
Monday, August 04, 2008
Dooney Da Priest has a message for Todd:
Friday, August 01, 2008
The arrival of Todd.
He arrived back yesterday morning not having washed for god knows how long. I let him lean forward to give me a kiss on the cheek and then he asked for a shower.
My son asked to have a shower. And thus the heavens opened and a mighty light shone into my living room. I looked up and saw a large man wrapped in Dash-white robes rudely pointing a finger at me and he said "That is a changed young man. Your son. Treasure him because look what happened to mine."
I looked at Todd's manky hair, his black finger nails and told him to get into the shower as quickly as possible - the aroma that was filling the room resembled that of a rather earthy joss stick that had gone mouldy. Not something that you want to have around, believe me.
I joined Tatiana and Todd for lunch as the Twat was elsewhere doing something - eating a sheesha pipe, no doubt, and Coralie was at work. I laid down my new rules for Todd which he accepted without a raised voice or anything, told him what Quarsan and I had in mind for his birthday which raised his spirits greatly and told him that his hair needed cutting. Tatiana thought it looked great, Todd informed me that long hair was all the fashion so I sniffed and said "well my hair is short. And you haven't said how great it looks, either."
Todd looked at my hair.
"Well, err, it looks great mum."
"Really? Thank you Todd."
"Yeah - it's, well, nice."
"Thank you. I haven't been to the hairdresser's."
"I knew it," replied Todd, grinning and thinking that he'd won out on a joke - only to be loudly interrupted by Tatiana - "YES YOU HAVE, MAMA."
I gave her one of those looks. When will my daughters pick up on a joke - it's exasperating. Tatiana still hasn't understood irony. I no longer understand it.
And then she understood which meant Todd felt guilty* for not noticing my hair cut, Tatiana felt a twerp and I just sat there laughing at the moment.
* [House regulations: men, ie: Todd and Quarsan, must compliment the women of the household when they return from the hairdresser. And vice-versa, although much could be said for Q's DIY hair cuts.]
Todd then went to his room where he emptied his bag of filthy clothes onto the floor. There was a pile of dried mud through which I could see several pairs of jeans and a pair of shorts. His room was transformed into a dried up field - there was dust and clumps of earth everywhere.
"You've got a lot of washing to do, Mama," grinned Todd.
"Not before you throw all your clothes out of the window and shake them very well."
"But Mama, my friends are waiting for me."
"No, now."
"I promise that I'll come home and do it tomorrow. I promise."
"OK, but you had better come home early. Have fun with your friends."
"I will - they have a swimming pool."
"WHAT?"
"Todd WAIT" shouted Tatiana from her room.
But he'd gone. It was so hot yesterday that the freezer section in the local supermarket was the only place of any comfort.
Welcome home Todd, you little tyke.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
The little sod.
As I paced the house and garden waiting for Todd to come home last night as he often gets home late I decided to ask the girls if they knew what time he was due back. Coralie turned around and said "he called me to say that he's not coming home till tomorrow." (ie: today.)
"Well then why didn't you tell me?"
"Oh, I thought you knew."
Doh.
So that means an extra day of filth and sweat, one wasted supper and oh, is he going to smell.
Aaaaargh.
Nurturing My Inner Honky
Stuff White People Like by Christian Lander
Random House
Having lived so long in the fells of the uncivilised North of England, then spending so many years in the Tanzanian bush, I've realised something. I've been out of touch with mainstream white culture. Indeed, when I hear the word culture, I reach for my sledgehammer.
Thankfully there now exists a handy guide to all things honky in this book of the blog. It's heavily geared to USanians - who need help more than most, but it is an interesting and funny look at ourselves and where we are, culturally at least. It also explains how the world's most advanced nation can be led by a monkey. To put it bluntly, these Bush opponents are a bunch of wankers.
This book is not about mainstream white culture, but middle class, young, liberal professional culture. It's a book by a narrow niche about themselves. They just love talking about themselves, and making fun of themselves makes them look cool in their own eyes. The book does succeed in its goal, it is funny, it is thought provoking.
However, there's something about the book that typifies the people it derides. It seems to cry out that mantra of white middle class America, "I don't like myself, but I'm desperate for you to like me".
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Cleaning Todd.
Much to my daughters' chagrin, Todd is due back home some time today after having spent two weeks at Scout Camp. Now imagine, if you dare, about twenty boys doing all sorts of activities such as walking to France and back as I think Todd has spent the last two weeks in the Ardennes - but if he was in France then he'd walk across the border to Belgium and back to camp, running around playing all sorts of complicated Scout games which always involve mud, regardless of the weather - and basically getting filthy and very, very smelly.
When the girls went to Guide Camp there was a year where the only means of washing was grabbing a bar of soap and leaping into a river. So now imagine if you really dare the state that Todd is going to be in when he gets back. Twenty boys don't believe in washing even if they have the most luxurious amenities at hand so his rucksack is going to pong and Todd will no doubt be a darker shade of black.
And reek.
So there's only one option:
Todd, stand in front of the house with this bar of soap while I get the hose.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Harley Davidson Ralley 2008.
HD parade14
Originally uploaded by zoeinbrussels.We left early on Saturday morning to get the train to Diest (don't ask - it's miles away) to meet Judy, have a quick lunch as I was hungrier to see the Harleys, leather and tattoos. Due to the very hot weather there wasn't much leather, but plenty of Harley Davidsons and tattoos. The bikers had come from Holland, Germany and Belgium - and Quarsan said he heard some British bikers talking too.
I saw a couple of topless girls on bikes as they made the parade around the square, and there were two very insistent Germans who would stop any bike driven by a female or with a female passenger to "show their tits". Sorry, with the pending job interview I really didn't think that I should take part - besides, it would only make the bike top or front heavy, depending on where I was sitting/lying.
My biggest faux-part was taking a photo of a bunch of bikers talking over a beer in a cafe. Judy had, for some reason, shot ahead and so when I caught up with her I asked her why as they all seemed so friendly.
"It looks like a nice cafe, doesn't it Zoe?"
"Yes, very."
"Last year somebody got killed in there - it's full of neo-Nazis."
"Judy, why didn't you tell me?"
"Because you were so busy taking a photo of a group of HELLS ANGELS."
And sure enough, when I looked at my photos later - it was clearly marked on their jackets. That's the trouble with taking photos when you have to wear glasses too.
The parade was interesting and fun and the bikers loved showing off their tattoos so I was in seventh heaven.
The day ended with moules/frites and wine and a full night's sleep - the first in ages. On Sunday we got a tour of Leopoldsburg, our first barbecue of the year and a sleepy trip home while Judy went to take pictures of some trout fishing competition.
Mad? No. This is Belgium.
Job Interview.
Tshirt3
Originally uploaded by zoeinbrussels.This post should have gone up yesterday but I went for a job interview although it has nothing to do with this sort of job.
Honest.
Friday, July 25, 2008
Away for the weekend.
Judy has invited both Quarsan and I out to the boondocks to see the Harley Davidson Ralley and all the festivities, the small village where she lives and most of all - the leather, tattoos and motorbikes. It's not quite the Twat's thing, but he'll be interested in the end - although I'm not allowed to show my
massive bosom off simply to sit on a Harley.
Anybody would think that he owns them. Pffft.
