MissLeonie.com

I’m ever so sorry for the lack of updates. I would have updated sooner, but I was busy sleeping a lot and going on weekend trips to Rothenburg ob der Tauer in Germany. There is evidence on the Flickr (though not of my sleeping, don’t get your hopes up).

Here is a preview of the central market square.

We travelled down (it’s about a six hour drive) on Thursday and got back this afternoon. We stayed in a little hamlet by the name of Detwang, which lies at the bottom of the Tauber valley that the city of Rothenburg overlooks. From there, it’s a lovely 10 minute walk uphill to the old city gates. This is a snippet of the Weihnachtsmarkt, or Christmas market.

It was mostly COLD, but also very enchanting. The city is very old school, to the tune of 700 years old-school. There are cars, but no neon-lights, for example. The shop fronts are traditional, with meticulous Christmas decoration at this time of year (and possibly also at other times, because the town boasts a Christmas museum amongst other things and it was Christmassy in summer when I visited a few years ago).

I drank a lot of glühwein (himbeerglühwein is heavenly) and I ate a Schneeball (snowball), a local, traditional pastry, that was a little bit disappointing. I had one with icing sugar, I think the chocolate-coated ones must be the way to go. Anyway, glühwein was the way to go because it was COLD. We weren’t clad for it at all the first day, thinking temparatures wouldn’t go much lower than a couple below zero. How wrong we were. Allow me to illustrate: on our way home this morning, our breaths didn’t so much fog up the windows, but froze onto them instead. I spent a lot of time defrosting.

PS. For a little impression of what it was like, click here. Click the It’s a report that German TV channel ZDF did on Saturday. I actually stopped in my tracks to watch their presenter rehearse (he was crap the first time he read his lines, but the final thing seems much better). I like watching these things now that I know a little bit about the behind-the-scenes workings of journalism. You mean an RA course paid off in practical knowledge? Surely you jest. And a great course it was.

I’m home! I didn’t have a good day at all trying to get there. I left on time to hop on my local bus which would take me to the railway station where I’d get on the Sky Link bus to the airport. Sadly, there was small little notice on (hadn’t noticed it any of the previous days), which stated that there wouldn’t be any buses due to roadworks. Little did I know that the twenty minute trek with two suitcases uphill toward the Sky Link stop would be the least of my worries that day.

When I got to the airport, I joined the queue to check in my suitcase. I had a good time chatting to a lovely Irish girl who gave me some advice about note taking jobs at the university. When it was my turn to check in, the lady at the desk asked me where I was flying to, and when I told her Amsterdam, she said there’d be a delay cause there had been an incident on the runway. By the way, I don’t know what it is with me and check in desks, but I never understand a word they’re saying. I remember Liam having to bail me out at Sydney airport last year, because I was just happily chatting along like a gormless fool while the lady was trying really very hard to get a few bits of crucial information out of me.

Anyway, I understood that as there being issues on the Schiphol, Amsterdam runway. I worked out that wasn’t the case as soon as EVERY SINGLE FLIGHT on the screens had was listed as “delayed.” Crapsicles.

I bought myself some food, found a seat, got my book out and figured I’d just wait till more news became available. There was talk of an emergency landing, of two planes colliding. I noticed people looking out the window, so when I walked up to ask one of the information desk people if they had any idea whether our flight would fly out at all, I had a look too. I later took a picture - it’s the image above.

RyanAir started cancelling flights and transferring them to Birmingham, Easyjet did a bit of the same, but my airline, bmibaby, hadn’t said anything yet. It finally did cancel one flight, and not long after, the voice through the speakers started rattling off a long list of flight numbers of destinations. The people I was sitting next to, watching the OC and sharing information and Malthesers with, and I? We all held our breath, waiting for the “have all been cancelled” notice.

But then… Then she finished her sentence saying all these flights would be underway as soon as possible, and told us to wait for further announcements. My flight was the first one boarding, and I left the airport only an hour and a half delayed. I wrote a Sinterklaas poem in the car on the way home, and two more once we got there, and we celebrated our SinterChristmas that very night.

I’m home. Finally.

I went ice skating with two friends this afternoon and had an absolutely great time. There’s something to be said for the joy of smoothly gliding along on ice while your heart is in your throat and your eyes spy around you like you’re playing a game of paintball. Only instead of paintballs, we are using real human bodies with sharp iron blades attached to their feet. Much more fun that way.

When I got home I had a good look at the gas bill and freaked the hell out, because it is way too high. I also need to somehow work out a way to get my share of the money into the bank account of the housemate who does the direct debits. Without going to the bank, because I’m flying home tomorrow and I don’t have time for such frivolities. In addition, I don’t have all of the necessary account details.

I’m also investigating how this damn bill got to be so high in the first place. I suspect it has something to do with our rather persistent heating problem, so I’ve contacted the lovely Gas Man who has now tried to fix it on the cheap twice. I thank my lucky stars that he is awesome enough to cooperate and lend me his brain so I can work out what kind of an influence a broken boiler has on gas consumption. If the answer is “hardly any,” I then need to work out how to smash my housemates’ heads together in a way that will resonate “must not waste energy” for the upcoming three months or so.

Lastly, I’m packing. I don’t think I really need to go into details as to why that would bring about an impressive stress-level, but I will anyway. I’m doing it without a pair of schales, because I’m cheap, and I don’t intend to do this flying business often enough to warrant the purchase. Half of my luggage are books and uni printouts. Save me.

By the way, did you know that you can type the word “screwed” using just your left hand? How sinister.

My housemates and I went out for dinner last night. We went to a modern-looking curry restaurant called Chutney that proved to serve the most amazing dishes. I’m a massive fan of Indian food (the number of naans I eat now that I have a kitchen with a grill is stupid yet enjoyable), and I’d never come across a better tasting curry dish. It was absolute heaven.

It was spicy, but not mouth-burningly so; sweet, but not nauseating; just a blissful mix of, in my case, tandoori sauce, chicken tikka, almond, sulatanas, coconut milk and honey. Mmm. I totally recommend the Peshwari Chicken dish! And that was just my main. Even the papadums we had for starters came with about nine different dips, every last one of them tasty. I must go there more often.

The four of us had a great time too. There’d been some tension in the house lately, but we talked it all out the previous night and just had a lovely night, stuffing our faces. It was also a nice way of celebrating our first semester together, and, as one of them put it, realising we’d changed from a group of strangers into friends.

I ran into this guy today. There are always a lot of musicians along the shopping street behind Broadmarsh shopping centre. There’s this bluesy guy who plays Stairway to Heaven, there’s a saxophone player, I’ve seen Salvation Army musicians, and a man who managed to play both an Irish tin whistle and a tambourin simultaneously. I’ll occasionally put some small change in the hat or case they’re using to collect money, but only if I’m impressed. I mean, if you’re a guy sitting there with a whistle playing some crooked version of Mary Had a Little Lamb… sorry, no.

This guy blew me away though. He played an electric violin, somehow managing to use it as a bass too, all Imogen Heap style. He recorded a little bass line, then added some back noise, and some effects, until finally, he was happy with his background music and started playing the violin in a dreamy yet percing way that gathered him quite a crowd. He’s been the most popular musician out there I’ve come across. I made sure to pass him my spare coins.

Sadly, I’ve forgotten what his name was, or what his albums were called, and the photos from my mobile are too unclear to decipher. Should you see a hippie with an electric violin, be sure to stop and listen.

Class is over! It’s about time too, because it’s getting harder and harder to get out of bed each morning. This isn’t aided by the heating, since hot water has now officially ceased to reach my top floor bedroom radiator. It’s been freezing cold these past few nights, and when I finally coax myself out from under the double bed covers I have wrapped myself in straitjacket-style, I look out the window to find there’s one thing I can’t take my eyes off. There is ICE. On the roof that I sleep under. And I have no heating. Crapsicles.

Although class is over, the worst isn’t yet. I have three essays due in the first week or so of January. I only really worked out what to do with one of them today, and even now, I’m not convinced I’m on the right track. Something I’ve encountered with almost all my courses here is that there is a lot of philosophising going on, but very little time is spent explaining what is expected of us in the final assessment.

I went to talk to one of my lecturers today, who agreed to discuss some options for the essay with me. Sadly, most of the things he says are over my head. There are at least three words in every sentence he speaks that require a little more explanation or reflection on my part. Logically, I freaked out a bit more after that meeting, but finally I started getting a few ideas. I went to the library (the only warm and quiet place on campus) and found myself a big desk on the top floor with the most gorgeous view. At this point, I started kicking myself for not having my camera on me. There were tall, leafless trees obscuring the direction of the road that rolled down the hill, around a corner. There were trees with berries, pine trees with foliage, big crows and fat little squirrels. The strangest thing is that the whole setting calmed me down incredibly, and made me productive. I felt like I was dropped in the middle of Little Women (the Winona Ryder version, which, to me, captures the mood better than any of the earlier ones), as I was writing away on my essay outline.

Today was my last day at uni, so I won’t be back to take pictures anytime this year. I do hope it’s still as perfect when I come back, though.

My veg box got here! I ordered some organic vegetables from a company called River Nene. They put a flyer in our mailbox last week, and their offers seem very reasonable priced (possibly cheaper than the same vegetables would be at Tesco, organic or not). In addition, I have become increasingly worried with all the crap we put in our mouths. Surely, along with our use of cosmetics and our general lifestyle, this must be somehow related to the prevalence of cancer in society today.

Even if it’s not, I’ve not been feeling well lately. I have had a lingering headache for a few weeks now, I have zero energy, and I want to feel better. The best place to start is by upgrading my body’s fuel. I’ve started eating more meat again, I am taking a whole range of vitamin and mineral supplements, I make sure I eat my two pieces of fruit a day, and I cook more well-rounded meals (provided I feel like it - I may be taking care, but I’m taking care of myself, not some kind of saint).

Anyway, my veg box arrived today! The company really did a great job. The box was put behind the gate to the side of my house, so that no one else could get to it, with a note in the mailbox saying that’s where they’d put it. In the “delivery comments” box I’d said to put it near the gate somewhere, thinking I couldn’t ask a delivery person to somehow get it on the other side of the gate, but they went ahead and did just that anyway. And have I mentioned the portions? I ordered the mini box, which has six different vegetables and is put together to feed one person. However, I got two heads of romanesco (that’s the cauliflower like picture on the right), two head of kale, at least a kilo of potatoes, a whole bunch of carrots, eight or so onions and a bunch of parsnips.

I’ve never eaten parsnips before, and that’s part of what’s so cool about the veg box: you have no choice in what veg will arive on your doorstep. I like every vegetable I’ve ever tried, so it really doesn’t matter to me. River Nene just deliver whatever’s seasonal and ready for harvesting. This means that I’ll be prompted to cook much more varied meals. It can’t hurt!

Do you know the strange sensation I like to refer to as “fuzz head?” It’s the feeling of having napped too long or slept not quite long enough that inspires thoughts like “I would eat something, but this whole peanut-butter-on-the-sandwich-process is more than I can handle right now.”

As much as I enjoy that feeling on a lazy Sunday, it’s very inconvenient right before the Christmas holidays, when I need to be jumping through all sorts of academic hoops.

…Surely, you didn’t expect this post to go anywhere. Seriously.

I need to work. But:

• It is 2 December. That means it’s three days till it’s the 5th of December, better known to Dutch people as Sinterklaas. Three whole days until I get to unwrap this present my mum sent me without telling me anything! For the next three days, all my brainpower will be used to guess what it inside the wrapping paper. Yes, I’m 21, why do you ask?
• I rediscovered the Shins. It now turns out that the Shins and I go back a long way, all the way back to when I won a Gilmore girls soundtrack after writing to a TV guide to proclaim my love for the Lorelais by pointing out that I ran the busiest Dutch web site on the topic at the time. Know Your Onion was a cool title even then. Garden State topped up my Shins credit by giving me Caring is Creepy and New Slang. It wasn’t until last week, however, that the Shins love was reawakened when they appeared on some TV show I’ve completely forgotten the name of. Now I have three of their CDs and the last sliver of brainpower not guessing what is in the present is humming. The Shins are everything that is good about indie pop.
• The weather is schizophrenic. The wind has been howling over the roof I’m sitting under, then the sky decided to open up and now it’s bright blue. Make up your mind already. Ha, in the time it took me to write this post, it’s changed to overcast.
• I found the first eight episodes of Gossip Girl online, and the ninth won’t work. Gah. I need my next fix, damn it!
• No one I know seems to have any ideas for Sinterklaas or Christmas presents. Then how the hell am I supposed to know?!
• Also, I’m scared shitless of this literary linguistics essay. I’m not entirely sure I know how to do this. Oops.