Monday, 30 November 2009


Het is net Nederlands maar dan anders. Neem bijvoorbeeld het woord ‘gans’. Ze bedoelen daar niet een inheemse zwemvogel mee, en ook niet een dom, onnozel meisje. ‘Gans’ zeggen ze als ze 'heel' bedoelen.

“Meneer, waar zijn hier de toiletten?” “Op de eerste verdiep.” Ik heb nog nooit iemand met zoveel respect over een verdieping horen praten!

“Wanneer ben je gedaan?” “Gedaan? Wat gedaan? Oh, je bedoelt hoe laat ik klaar ben!”

Webstek. Webstek. Webstek. Ik kan er maar niet aan wennen dat webstek gewoon een website betekent in hypercorrect Nederlands. En Vlaams.

Vlaams ben ik dus nog aan het leren. Ik kom er wel.

Nog een zoukje voor het slapengaan:


For those who don’t have (or don’t use) a Facebook account – FarmVille is a real-time farm simulation game, available as an application on Facebook. Several of my friends were playing it and I was curious what’s so fun about it. Now I’m at level 25. I have no idea how many levels there are, but I don’t know anyone who survived level 32.

In Farmville you get a piece of land that you can plow and plant seeds on, then collect the fruits or vegetables and earn money. You can spend your money on the market to buy seeds, trees, animals, buildings or machines. When you plow your land, plant seeds or build buildings you get experience points. Those points help you to move up the level ladder. You can also earn experience points by visiting your neighbours’ farms and giving them a helping hand. When you help your neighbours, you get to see their farms too. It’s fun to see how people run their farms.

There are people who don’t take it all too seriously which seems rather appropriate in case of FarmVille. A cow here, an apple tree there, a daffodil, a potato, then a daffodil again.

There are people who care about quality of life and don’t care about money and prizes all that much. Those use plenty of space for the house, and their animals are allowed to walk around freely.

Then there are those very successful farmers: they manage to combine high quality of life with the maximum efficiency when it comes to using their resources.

And this is my farm. I use all the space and have my storage full of items too. My farm is a continuous production process, no hedonic or aesthetic pleasures. I adopt animals not because I feel sorry for them or because I like them, but because adopted animals earn me points. My animals are not allowed to walk. There was no place to walk anyway up until this morning when I received a reindeer as a present. I have cleared up a strip of land so I could put it there. Then I felt guilty for treating my animals like this and let this one reindeer walk around. This guilt feeling is hunting me and I think I’m going to give in and reorganise my farm to make it a nicer place. I just need one more neighbour so I can expand my farm. Please sign in for the FarmVille and add me as your neighbour! (After you’ve done that you can forget all about FarmVille again.)

Sunday, 29 November 2009

From Grunberg to cellulite

I had a Russian speaking girls evening yesterday. Three of my girlfriends came for a dinner. It was so much fun, I will organise this on a regular basis!

At the dinner table we started with discussing the books we read lately and then gradually we moved to other topics like applying for a new passport in Russia or Ukraine, work, people we know, diets (!). The latter topic really sounded weird around that table because the highest body mass index in the group is 21,5 which is very normal and is closer to underweight than to overweight.

It was a nice mix around the table: one Ukrainian from Ukraine, one Russian from Ukraine, one Russian from Russia and one Ukrainian from Russia. So discussing language issues was fun too. And then my accent issue came up. They all looked at me as if I were talking absolute nonsense.
N: “I’ve been to a logopedist twice, but it only helps for a month. After that your accent gradually comes back.”
L: “Next time you feel like going to a logopedist, go shopping straight away! That helps much better.”

The girls left at 22:30 and I went to dance ignoring the post-war state of my kitchen and dinner table. After two hours of salsa I checked out a night club (pretty empty, sticky floors and bad music) and a disco bar. In bed by 4:20 – won’t do it often!

Dancing youth at the disco bar in the ray of light from a disco ball.

Friday, 27 November 2009


In twelve years in the Netherlands I’ve been asked questions about my accent (questions like: Where does your accent come from? You speak with an accent, where are you from?) so often I lost count years ago. I even learned to overcome my irritation and be friendly, answer the question and forget about it right away. If I don’t visit some kind of event where I meet a lot of new people I get reminded about my accent twice of three times a week. But last Wednesday was outrageous: I got a question or a remark about my accent three times within four hours! “I maybe a little rude, but I love accents and wonder where yours come from.” “Oh, now I talk to you a little longer, I hear your funny accent. Where are you from?” And how do you like this: “You speak Dutch with a heavy Russian accent – so exotic, you have to use it to earn money!”

There was a period in my life I wanted to get rid of the accent somehow. I was seriously thinking of going to a logopedist for that. Friends talked me out of it. I tried my best to accept it and let it be a part of me. But now the wish to get rid of my accent is back. And it’s stronger than several years ago. I can’t believe my attempts to accept it failed completely, but it seems they really did. I’ve already looked up a logopedist not far from my place. But I’m still struggling with myself. Shall I do it, or shall I not?

What do you think: to be or not to be for my “heavy Russian accent”? Please fill in the poll on the right side of this blog. At this moment I can use some encouragement or discouragement as long as it helps me to get of this struggle. Either way!

Yesterday's AEGEE Alumni after work borrel. At last you can see my hair, thanks to Thijs! AEGEE - the only environment where I don't mind the question "Where are you from?" The answer is: "AEGEE-Kyiv!"


Yesterday I was just finished writing the text for my blog and was going to look for the music to illustrate zouk when I discovered my internet connection was gone. I tried to revive it for forty minutes then gave up and went to bed. This morning the connection was out up until the moment I had to run to work. It seems I’m rather dependent on the internet connection for my daily writing exercise – grrrr – absolutely unacceptable for an independent woman like me!

Choices, choices...

Last night I realised that I will face an enormous choices crisis in January.  I already know: no matter what choice I make – I will lose. That’s tough! Really tough... I try to avoid the thought of it, but instead I just think about it all the time. Well, I think I have to get to it, make a choice and get over it. I’m just not ready yet.

Ok, here’s the problem: I have to make a choice of which dance lessons I’m going to take next season. Here are the choices:
Ballroom – I have the perfect partner now, we just have to figure out which dance school we choose.
Salsa – I have to go on with it, can't stop now. I’ll be dancing Intermediate 1 level.
Salsa lady styling – I am in desperate need of lady styling, and now they don’t seem to have it in my salsa school anymore. I’ll have to look for another course and hope the schedule works out.
Bachata – I more or less have the basics now, but I want to be able to really dance. Bachata is such a beautiful and romantic dance – it makes my heart cry and fly!
Argentine tango – the dance of passion! Although I know I probably will have no space for a tango course, I am going to have a look at one of tango lessons to get an idea of it. Most probably tango will be very difficult to resist after this visit.
Zouk – romantic, spectacular and much easier to learn than tango. Here's how zouk music sounds like:

Life's tough...

Tuesday, 24 November 2009


It’s still November, but New Year is winking at me from around the corner. I still have to make the Sinterklaas present and dance at the Christmas ball. I still have to arrange (or plan) something for Christmas and organise the New Year celebration. I still have to finish loads of things this year and I still have tomorrow to take care of. But I already tend to look into January and think about my goals for the next year. I don’t like resolutions, I set goals. I write them down in a notebook and have a look at them every two or three months to make sure I don’t forget anything. And I actually achieve them. That’s the most satisfying part of the whole exercise.

Usually I wake up into a morning of a new year, freed of December dinners and parties, sit down, concentrate and write down my goals. The whole thing takes no more than a couple of hours, including the planning for the first steps to achieve the goals. I don’t remember being so excited about it so far in advance, though. Why am I so excited now? There is a good reason for that. 2009 was a true mess. The year was messy not because my true love had left me and I was desperately trying to glue thousands of pieces of my heart back together using the non-lasting glue of hasty new relationships and love affairs. The mess was not because my business had failed throwing me back to the core question: what do I want and how do I get it? And it’s not even the permanent (and very tiring) lack of money that created this year’s mess. It’s the lack of goals, that left me in ruins for the whole year. And that’s why I am so keen on setting up my goals for the next year. In 2010 there will be no mess in my life, I will achieve what I want to achieve and that will give me strength and motivation!

But that’s January. And now I have to take care of tomorrow: work, order books for my mother, work, write two job application letters, work, clean up a little, work, grocery shopping, work, cook, dance. Wish me luck!

P.S. I am going to the hairdresser on 16 of December to get my hair in shape (with a minimum hair loss) and that’s when I’ll post my new hairdo picture. It’s just a couple of weeks more that you have to wait – patience!

Monday, 23 November 2009


Last week at our Wednesday dinner table:
C: “I have an idea: let’s celebrate Sinterklaas together.”
Me: “Yes, with surprises and verses! Very good idea!”
M: “I never celebrated Sinterklaas. What are surprises? I can’t write verses...”
Me and C: “Well, it’s about time you find out what Sinterklaas is all about!”

Vorontsov met Sinterklaas downtown.

Today I called C: “How are we going to raffle the names with only three of us?”
C: “I am going to give you two phone numbers now. One of them is my neighbour’s. He knows what to do. If you call him, you’ll get a name. But be careful, the man is a charmer!”
Me: “What about the second number?”
C: “It’s the local veterinarian. You have to figure out which number belongs to whom.”

Sinterklaas is going to be fun, I’m looking forward to it!

P.S. I had a bad hair day today, so no update pictures.


I know many immigrants in the Netherlands. Maybe because I am an immigrant myself I attract (and I am attracted to) other immigrants. People have many different reasons for which they choose to come and live here: family, work, study, asylum - you name it. But it’s when I talk to Dutch people I always have to answer the question on why and how I came to the Netherlands. This is quite annoying not only because I get this question way too often, but also because it feels like I don’t belong here, although I really wish I did. Often I also have to answer the question: “Do you like it here?” Somehow it reminds me of a question I often were asked when I was little: “Whom do you love more – mommy or daddy?” There is no simple answer to this, but how do you explain that?

Last Tuesday in Kiev I had a very refreshing conversation and surprisingly enough it was built on approximately the same questions. And this time I (of all people!) was the one asking them! I met a Dutchman who lives and works in Ukraine. I asked him why on Earth he swapped Netherlands for Ukraine. I don’t know how often he has to answer this question, but I really appreciated his energetic reaction. “Do you like people in the Netherlands? Are they nice? Are they cordial? Do you feel welcome in their homes? Do you like your life to be regulated by your agenda? Do you like the fact that there are rules for every little thing? There are so many rules, most of them are nonsense and irrelevant to the real life! They just won’t let you exist without regulating your life completely. In Ukraine you are free from that.” We didn’t have enough time to continue, but I really hope we can carry on next time I’m in Kiev. He gave me a view on life in Ukraine from a very different perspective helping me to fit yet another piece in my enormous life questions puzzle.

Tomorrow I will try to give you a visual update on my hair.

Sunday, 22 November 2009

Little black dress

My phone rings, I pick up and hear my friend’s voice trembling with excitement: “I’ve just spotted a perfect little black dress for you!” She sounds like she’s going to faint. “Calm down, calm down, try to relax! Tomorrow we’ll go downtown and check it out.” So today we went to check out the dress. It’s Christmas season and shops are loaded with black dresses. The dress she had in mind looked very beautiful in the shop window. Before we got to the dressing rooms I picked up two more black dresses, a black skirt and a black cat suit. I ended up buying the dress she had in mind – it looked fabulous on me! I’d
spent my budget already and it was already near to closing time, but we decided to pay a visit to the shop next door. There they had black dresses too. Many black dresses. After five minutes intensive browsing through the shop we both headed for the dressing rooms. I tried six dresses on of which only one didn’t look spectacular. Hmmm... Tough choice. I can’t afford five dresses. I don’t need five dresses!!! I bought two. So now I have a “Marylyn Monroe” pleated dress for style dancing balls, a “cha-cha-cha” dress with lots of fringe for special salsa parties and a cocktail dress with frills for other occasions. I’m in urgent need of balls, exclusive salsa parties and other special occasions now. Please do invite me!

Friday, 20 November 2009


A couple of days ago there was this huge Vodafone network failure in the Netherlands. Huge amounts of communication have gone wrong. Dutch municipalities use Vodafone for their business – I guess most municipality services were (partly) paralysed.

My imagination took this even further. Imagine you wake up one morning and the whole concept of mobile networks and cell phones is gone. All the rest stays the same, but without cell phones. I was trying to imagine how my day would go if this happened: I have to rush to work, but cannot find my cell anywhere. I try calling my number from Skype with no success. Finally I leave the house without my phone trying to convince myself I can survive one day without my phone. I manage to get to work without noticing anything strange on the way. But at work it appears EVERYBODY misses their cell phone. Calling friends and relatives becomes rather tricky, because we don’t know numbers by heart anymore. But every mobile number we try to dial seems to be ‘out of use’ or non-existing...

Hmm, this is a very nice topic for a Sci-Fi story. Is anyone interested to explore it any further?

Kiev cuisine

If you walk into a restaurant in Kiev you will most likely find yourself in either a “traditional Ukrainian” or a “fusion” kind of place. Fusion doesn’t mean food from traditional cuisines with a modern twist to it like pelmeni filled with duck and apples. No, fusion in Kiev terms means there will be dishes from different countries on the same menu: sushi, pizza, canard a l’orange, tapas and pelmeni - no co-ordination whatsoever. Have fun making the most weird combinations. Traditional Ukrainian restaurants serve traditional Ukrainian food. The food is good. The challenge lies in surviving the environment. When it comes to interior design it seems that Ukrainian “traditional” restaurants compete with each other on expanding the borders of pathetic absurdity. The term for this style is yet to be invented, kitsch doesn’t even come close.

This all is inside the restaurant. Waiters in traditional outfits and masks against the swine flu make the joy complete. It takes three people and ten minutes to bring the change and another ten minutes to bring back the bill.

Is You Is or Is you Ain't My Baby by Dinah Washington - I've listened to this song a couple of times in the car from Cologne to Eindhoven - Love it!

Thursday, 19 November 2009


I'm very tired, my feet hurt and so does my heart.

Monday, 16 November 2009

Swine flu

Passport control and customs officers at the Kiev International Airport in Boryspil were wearing masks (protection from the swine flu) this morning.

"So, how's the flu in Ukraine?" "Ah, that's a political illness."

50% of billboards are dedicated to the election campaigns of different presidential candidates. Elections pop up as a topic of any conversation at least once every fifteen minutes. The country is literally paralysed by the coming presidential elections.

Someone (a business partner of the Chamber of Commerce Benelux-Ukraine) told me that when she met me in Utrecht during Ukraine Day, she thought I was Dutch who speaks Russian very well. Afterwards she couldn't believe I come from Kiev because apparently I speak Russian with a very strong accent. I wasn't pleased to hear this…

I'm total loss, off to bed now.

Sunday, 15 November 2009


I’m leaving to Kiev (via Antwerp) tomorrow and there’s still a long list of things I should do before leaving. I will fall off the grid for a couple of days because the programme in Kiev is stuffed with meetings. I spoke to my mother tonight and we decided that she will join my father and me on our way to the airport on Wednesday (four o’clock in the morning!) so we can talk in the car. There is no other opportunity to talk for us!

So if there are no posts here till Wednesday, don’t worry – I’m probably not dead, just busy. Hopefully Kiev will bring some new inspiration. It always does. That’s one of the reasons I’ve started this blog in the first place.

Saturday, 14 November 2009


I don’t mind long queues at the supermarket. I love watching what set of products people have in their shopping carts. I look at the person and their shopping cart and then try to imagine more details about their life.

A young woman in a green coat and a purple scarf: one cucumber, one package of Old Amsterdam cheese (in slices), one carton of Dubbel Fris, a bag of tea lights. She is not living together with a man!

A man in his early forties, jeans, sweater, jacket: two cans of beer, a bag of crisps, a ready made meal for one. He is a chronic single and will stay single for the rest of his life, unless he meets a woman (it will probably have to happen at this very supermarket) who is desperate enough to take on this hopeless project.

A Muslim woman with a twelve-years-old boy: ten cartons of ice tea, forty mini cartons of apple and orange juice, two large bottles of cola, six small bottles of sparkling water, two cartons of milk, four different sorts of cookies (two packs each), 1kg minced beef, one bottle of liquid soap, 2kg of sugar, 5 kg of flour, one loaf of white bread, a package of something that resembles candy. I wonder how many people the family consists of and how long it will take them to drink all this liquid up. I also hope the husband/father is waiting outside!

Two neatly dressed men in their early forties: twenty mini cans of tomato puree, one package (three rolls) of paper kitchen towel, one package (six pieces) of pre-baked croissants, one package of cleaning cloth, three apples, one jar of white beans in tomato sauce. Ehm...

A woman in her mid thirties, short hair, jeans, short suede jacket: a loaf of brown bread, a jar of peanut butter, a jar of pure chocolate bread spread. She... Oh, wait, it’s me and my breakfast! I take my time while putting my breakfast in a plastic bag I brought from home, so I can watch one last shopping cart reveal it’s owner’s secrets. It’s a man in his late twenties in a brown suit, white shirt, no tie, stylish grey trench coat: turkey filet, a bag of small potatoes, lettuce, tomatoes, olives, spices, feta cheese, an assortment of French cheese, ice-cream, strawberries, a bottle of chocolate sauce, a bottle of white wine, a bottle of red wine, a package of green tea, candles. I hope she’s worth the effort...

Friday, 13 November 2009

Second love

In today’s newspaper I saw an ad that had made quite an impression. It was very small – 4,5cm by 10cm and had only some text in black with a black line around it. For some seconds I was staring at it in disbelief. When the first shock passed, I was very amused, though. Here’s the text (I tried to keep the style and grammar of my English translation as similar to the original as possible):
Is cheating on your partner acceptable or not?
From October 2008 Second love is brought on the market and already a big success. The gross of the visitors is very satisfied with the service which shows from the many reactions we receive.

Chat, e-mail as well as meeting in reality or an affair appear to have a positive effect on their feeling of happiness and/or home life. Naturally, the visitors decide for themselves how far they want to go. The website only helps to find those similarly minded who miss excitement in their current relationship.
Life is short, have a Second love.”

I wonder: if accepting and regulating prostitution leads to less casualties among prostitutes, and accepting and regulating drugs leads to a lesser drug use, would accepting and regulating of cheating lead to less cheating? I think we need some legal basis for cheating – might be a good solution for this problem.

Thursday, 12 November 2009

Dancing queen

Wednesday is a dancing day and next Monday I'm going to Kiev for two days.

Wednesday, 11 November 2009

Love control pills

“You shouldn’t fall in love with him now.” “Make sure you don’t fall in love with him.” Hey, as if I can control that! “I need to know whether a woman is available before I fall in love with her” – how do you do that? Teach me! Isn’t it like you fall in love and you cannot do anything about it, but hope you will get love in response? I don’t think I’m in love with him now, but how do I prevent that feeling from happening in the future? They should work on love control pills. I’m sure there will be high demand for those. I’d certainly get some, insurance or no insurance. If my doctor read my blog she would prescribe me a triple dose.

Monday, 9 November 2009


It’s time to share some food thoughts (as opposed to usual food for thought). Here’s one of the quick fix recipes I use when I don’t have time or inspiration to cook. This soup takes about 25 minutes to prepare. The original recipe is here (in Dutch) and this is my version.

For four people you will need:

3 celery stalks
1 large carrot
2 tbs olive oil
1 can of chopped tomatoes
1 chicken bouillon tablet
1 jar of white beans in tomato sauce
1 small can of corn

1. Slice celery and carrot. Heat olive oil in pan and fry celery and carrot for about 2 minutes.
Celery root and fry about 2 minutes.
2. Add chopped tomatoes, beans, corn and crumbled bouillon tablet. Diced tomatoes, broth tablets, beans with sauce and add 6 oz water.
3. Bring soup to boil and cook on low heat for about 5 minutes.


Rumba – very beautiful and very difficult!

Sunday, 8 November 2009

Wie is er niet groot mee geworden?

I first ‘met’ peanut butter in 1991, during my trip to USA. I loved it! At that time there was nothing like Nutella in Kiev shops. (There was hardly anything in shops, we even had to line up for bread.) Peanut butter was a true discovery. I had to wait for another five years before I could try the Dutch version of peanut butter – pindakaas. It was even better than the American version, because it wasn’t sweet. Once John and I attended a conference in The Hague. We stayed at a friend’s place and I remember eating up a 600g jar of pindakaas with a spoon. John was angry: “You can’t eat up somebody’s food just like that!” but I just couldn’t stay away from it! :)

Once during a dinner at John’s student house the six of us were watching TV. An old Calvé pindakaas commercial appeared during the commercial break. At the end of it there is a (rhetorical) question: “Calvé Pindakaas, who didn’t grow up with it?” Five people pointed fingers at me and said: ”She didn’t!” :D

When I moved to the Netherlands I tried different brands of pindakaas. I compared them and made my choice once and forever. There are several reasons for which I love this country and this is one of them: Calvé pindakaas met stukjes noot!

P.S. My father calls it пиндюкас. :D

Saturday, 7 November 2009


What makes people enjoy each other’s company? We grew up in different countries, had totally different education (that concerns subject as well as level) and absolutely different career paths. We look very different and have an almost non compatible circle of friends. Common interests? We share a great interest in fashion and style. Is this enough to spend a highly enjoyable day together or is there something else? We both dance a lot, but we didn’t talk about it at all. Except when trying shoes on: “Can you spin? You won’t be able to dance in these shoes, they’re just for walking.” We like men, but didn’t talk much about them either. What did we talk about?! Everything and nothing in particular. About her job and my blog, about how often we clean up our houses, about how filthy men can be, about the weather, about clothes and shoes, about cooking, about money, about rich men. We didn’t have any deep conversations and it felt very good. We have totally different body types but look well in exactly the same clothes. It’s good we’re both broke, otherwise we’d end up with bags full of same dresses and skirts. That would ask for a lot co-ordination every time we go somewhere together.

After some hours of shopping - trying many similar things on and deciding to wait for the (real) sales season - we decided we need two men to accompany us next time. We’ve even identified the men already, let’s hope they agree. ;)

I’m going to take a relaxing bath now and then catch up on sleep as next week doesn’t promise much sleep either.


I went downtown today and checked out some shops. Sales have started already! In Dutch shops sales are all year round nowadays. Just like Christmas. Black and glittery dresses and tops have been around for at least one month now. How much of that black glittery stuff can we consume? You only wear that once, maybe twice a year. Who buys a new Christmas eve outfit every year? Well, apparently everybody does. Not that I mind black or glitters, but shops have hardly any other clothes now. One advantage is that all of a sudden different types of bras are available: strapless, convertible, demi cup. Buy them now, before Christmas is over. Choose any type you want, any colour you want. Oh, no. The colour is black. You were not going to wear anything colourful any time soon, were you? You are not going to party out before Christmas, are you? You want to have a white strapless bra to wear under your white top? Nooooooo! It’s Christmas time! Grrrrrrrr!

This will be my first year in the Netherlands without anyone to spend Christmas with. I wonder how that will feel.

Tonight, after we’ve settled in a BMW convertible: “It’s so nice of you to bring us home! What’s your name?”

Friday, 6 November 2009


A friend has posted this link on her Facebook wall today. It’s about millions of people worldwide who would like to permanently move to another country. It appears that every tenth person wants to immigrate. I wonder why there are so many restrictions on migration imposed by the governments. With such a significant number one would expect that the process of immigration would be actively supported and facilitated by the governments.

If people want to leave your country – help them. Who needs unhappy citizens anyway? When they leave there’s  space for new people who want to move in. If you have less space than applicants you will even have a choice: high educated women, IT-specialists, blonde tall guys, vegetarians, people who own a voodoo doll, you name it.

One might argue that there are too many people willing to move and countries (especially the most popular ones) will never be able to accommodate everyone. Let me dismiss this argument right away. Many  people who say they would like to switch countries will never do it even if supported by the government. The fact that you cannot make everyone happy doesn’t mean you should prevent people from getting happy or not try to make at least some people happy.

What we need to do is stop being afraid of foreigners and stop trying to give everyone an equal chance. The latter only leads to more restrictions.

Would world be a better place if everyone could freely choose in what country they want to live?

Wednesday, 4 November 2009

What men feel

I met her at my ballroom dance school. Her face looked very familiar but I couldn’t place it. I was with a man, a dance partner for the night. She sat by the bar. Alone. “Hi! Where do I know you from?” – what a bad opening! I can’t believe I’ve just used it! This is so embarrassing! I bet my partner was happy he wasn’t in my place.

“I don’t know!” – she looked a bit surprised. “Do you dance salsa at Universalsa?” “Yes! You too?” – the joy of relief! I now have something to build a conversation upon and she knows my question wasn’t just meant to start a conversation with her. After all being approached by a woman if you are female does feel a bit weird. We started talking and she was chatting in a very cute way. She was fast, I couldn’t keep up and just kept looking at her in amazement.

The three of us talked, danced and when the school closed we decided to have a drink in a café next door. The café was not open to the general public that night – some wealthy kid was celebrating his or her 25th birthday. The security let us in without further questions. It was warm and crowded. We joined the dancing youth on the ground floor. That’s when I noticed how small she was. I’m not tall at all (163cm), but I felt really big and bearish comparing to her. There was very little space – a perfect excuse to dance very close to her. She didn’t mind.

A safety pin that was holding the belt around her waist bent and opened. She threw it away, took the belt off and next... her tiger print blouse was off too. Wow! She was wearing a thin white singlet. I couldn’t take my eyes off the skin on her shoulders. I kept on wondering how her bra looked like. We danced and danced. It was really warm and I was covered with a thin layer of sweat. I ran my hand over her breasts. Kept it there longer than necessary to feel how wet her singlet was. She didn’t look intimidated, surprised or uncomfortable. Not a bit. “You’re soaking wet!” “It’s his sweat!” – she said enthusiastically pointing at “our” man.

He dropped me off at my place and drove on to bring her home. It was two o’clock and everything that happened felt rather unusual to me. I wonder: this whole night – is this how a man feels when he meets an attractive girl?

I don’t understand this but like the sound:
What happened last night

Tuesday, 3 November 2009


I was waiting for the train at Den Haag HS when two Muslim girls appeared on the platform. Their heads were covered with black scarves the way most Muslim women do it in the Netherlands. That’s how I knew they were Muslim. But the rest just didn’t fit in the picture. They were wearing mini skirts and high boots and one of them had a can of Red Bull in her hand. They seem to have their own very original interpretation of Islam. I took a picture with my phone, but it didn’t turn out very sharp. I hope you can still see enough.

“When are you finally going to copy the music for me?” He means this:

Monday, 2 November 2009


My friend asked me yesterday how many pairs of shoes I had. “About twenty” – I said. “Good” – she answered. I think it’s possible to measure wealth of a country by the amount of shoes an average woman owns.

“You look very nice today. Don’t forget to mention on your blog that I made a compliment!” :D

We danced to this song today:

I like this one a lot too :)

Sunday, 1 November 2009


(ben op zoek naar werk)

Klaar voor de stad?
Wij zijn nummer 1!
Word je onze nieuwe collega?
Weet je uit ervaring hoe de zorg beter kan?
Je nieuwe werkgever is nogal veeleisend.
De wereld van morgen begint vandaag.
Mooi werk maak je niet alleen!

Wij zoeken:
Areaalbeheerder wegen, kunstwerken en openbare verlichting
Professor of Synthetic Systems Biology
Functioneel beheerder Relatiebeheersysteem Selligent
Die ene Manager die de klant voorop stelt


Ik had een vriendin op bezoek vandaag. Op weg naar huis belde ze om te vertellen dat ze een Roodkapje heeft ontmoet bij de tramhalte.

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