Our YB piece

Once upon a time, further than where the little piglet was picking the ground, and even further than the glass mountains, at a place where the wind brought the smell of cows from the West and the smell of coffee from the East, the squirrel reached a big forest. The curious little creature moved her nose up and down, took a sniff of the air from all directions and decided to stay because the forest was full of trees to climb and interesting animals to get to know. The most interesting of all was the fox. He was tall and attractive, silent but witty. The squirrel was mesmerised and even though she was told that the fox had a distant lover, she got closer to him, step by step.
“Hello,” said the squirrel. “You have a nice nose.”
The fox blushed.
“Thank you,” he said, not really knowing what to do. He was fascinated by the cute creature that was so daring and yet so fragile. “Uhm, do you want to come over for tea?”
“Sure,” said the squirrel, “When?”
The fox had not thought about this. “Now?” he said, hopefully.
“Well,” said the squirrel, who was busy at the moment, “I’m busy at the moment.”
“Then… drop by after you are done,” decided the fox.
“It’ll be late,” said the squirrel.
“That doesn’t matter,” said the fox.
And so it happened. The squirrel dropped by in the dark of night, when the fox was already sleeping.
“Hello,” said the squirrel.
“Good evening,” said the fox, yawning, and they had tea and stared at the moon together until the sun started to reappear.
The next evening, they met to have tea and stare at the moon again.
After a couple of nights like this, the fox realised that he was actually not so interested in the moon. And neither was the squirrel. And again, the fox didn’t really know what to do. Until the squirrel turned to him and said: “I love you.” The fox looked back at the squirrel, into her beautiful brown eyes, and realised that he loved her, too.
And from that day onwards, they made a good team. They laughed together, went out hunting and collecting nuts together, took care of one another when they got ill, supported each other when they ate poisonous mushrooms and relaxed each other when the big tree-climbing competition was held twice every half a year. Both the squirrel and the fox were always very curious and eager to do better, climb higher and see further. They were hoping to one day go to a forest where the trees were even higher and the view was even brighter. They were living happily and were inseparable. They roamed the hills and valleys, caves and trees of the forest paw in paw, searching for the right place to stay. For a while, the squirrel moved into the cave of the fox, a dark hole in the long levy that separated the forest from the river where shiny fish swam by fast every day. Everyday, they kept exploring. Going from place to place, they finally found a cosy little hole in the highest peak of the landscape.
But one day, the fox got restless.
“What is it?” asked the squirrel.
“I want to go somewhere else,” said the fox.
“Where somewhere else?” asked the squirrel, a bit shaken.
“Just Somewhere Else… I’ve never really been Somewhere Else before.”
“But I can’t leave this forest yet,” said the squirrel.
“I’ll go alone,” said the fox. “But I’ll write to you. And I’ll tell you all about somewhere else. You can even come over one day.”
The squirrel was not very happy about this. But for once, the fox was really decided.
“Well, ok,” said the squirrel. “But I want you to come back.”
“Of course I will come back,” said the fox.
The squirrel was sad to let him go, but trusted him to come back. The fox went Somewhere Else, to come back in half a year, hoping to be enriched by the experience of discovering it. He found another forest, and wrote to the squirrel about how nice it was, and also about how much he missed her.
When will he be back? Will they climb high enough together? Will they find another forest, with higher trees and brighter views, that welcomes them both? That's another tale.

"I don't love you any more"

This is what we call in Hungarian "a lightening from the clear sky". He comes back home, we have dinner with friends. He says we should cook ragu bolognese for the group next time. We come home, but something just doesn't feel right. "Is there something you want to tell me? I don't want you to wait for three days if you have something to say." "No, there's nothing." Nightmares and a bleeding nose that night. Morning. Sex. Shower. Breakfast/brunch. We discuss when we should leave to see his family for the weekend and when we should come back. Lying in bed. "I love you." Silence.

And then I knew. And then he said it.

I really don't understand. He cannot answer why, he doesn't know what else he would need and he doesn't see a chance for this changing. You can't make somebody stay when he wants to leave, but I wish I could change the way he feels. I wish he had tried to discuss it when there was still a chance and not just announce it now. My head is full of questions and he cannot answer them.

I can't even get hold of friends. Everybody is away.

To do:
- avoid the black pit of self-pity and realize that the world is not over
- realize that the end of something is also the beginning of something new
- make new plans for the summer

I know it will be better but it hurts so much right now.

Those summer (course) days

After the initial grayness, the weather changed its mind and now the days are sunny, the grass is green, the sky is blue and people wear a smile on their face. The third years are still around, some enjoying their freedom, some still working on a research project or a thesis. This reminds me that I got my grade for my research project and if I was American, I'd say "I'm very pleased with it", and in Hungary I'd just say the grade, but I feel that it's not very much valued here to account for grades, so I'll just stick to the Western "I'm very pleased." I also got all my grades in for the semester and I'm extremely pleased with those too. Who would have thought that after a semester of ASIC, chiefing, the ETSI project, MediaLab and DirectRT assistantship and 4 courses, I'd actually make it? But, I'll never do this much at the same time, oh no.

So, we're enjoying those summer days. I'm in Rosemary's summer module and as much as I'm a student I'm also a lab rat because it's the first time Rosemary is giving the course, and I'm her only student :) It's nice though, I'll have tons of reading for the weekend. I'll have to get started on familiarizing myself with Matlab and I already know that I'll have enough help if I need it.

I've been spending my evenings with the gang - Paul, Nicole, Kevin, Laurens, Pavel, Fede, Lynn, Caroline, Jennifer, Zoe - at least with the people who are free at the time. We have a cooking group, two people cooking for the rest, then we are eating together and sharing the costs. It's very cosy and friendly and generally fab. Yesterday it was my turn to cook with Nicole (although I was only told a bit before 6 pm, haha), but I think I wasn't contributing too much. We were hanging out very late, drinking some wine and then swimming. Pavel, Nicole and I were observing the happenings from outside and I bit Kevin who wanted to throw me into the water, although he claims that he was only joking. Apologies. For the nails too. It was a funny, nice evening.

Actually, the evening before that one was also fun. I heard the doorbell just 5 minutes after I had gone to bed at around 1 am. Yeah, I guess I did say they were welcome to drop by, but I thought that would be earlier. In any case, we ended up on the balcony, the six of us on one couch and an armchair, covered with 3 blankets and having 2 crates of beer around. Later, I tried to fit as many people as possible on my bed (normal 1-person UC bed), but we were obviously going to fail the plan of fitting everybody. It was only around 4 30 when everybody left and I took over my room again.

And the event of the day: Joram is arriving this afternoon, he's already on the train towards Utrecht. I'll soon pick him up :) In fact, right now.

Home sweet home, twice.

I have two hours to waste. I was planning to get up at 5 00 but that was too painful. However, after the repeated and very annoying "good morning" from my mobiles (both the Hungarian and the Dutch ones) I had to get out of bed. Finishing a paper is a bit like finishing a painting. It's never done, you just have to stop at one point. And the best inspiration is the deadline.

This is what my table looked like yesterday evening. My mother's new laptop on the left, Joram's computer on the right. The red stuff on the monitor are the comments of my supervisor. Between the two computers: a glass of cheap Kruidvat energy drink mixed with Martini (don't try). The orange book on the left: the dissertation of a girl, a very nice overview of a lot of theories and experimental techniques, I wish I could keep it. It has Frank's name in it though, so that's not very likely. To the left of the book: stuff about ASIC issues that I'm planning to give to Bram. Behind the book: one and a half weeks old orange, now in my tummy, yummi, yummi. The big black box: our collection of tea. The envelope between the computer and the monitor: the form I should return to Universiteit Utrecht once I have a sofinummer. The bear in front of the black box: the postcard Joram's parents sent to me when they were in London. The bears on the wall: my favorite British ad for Cadbury chocolate, "Sweet but not too sweet". Alright, I'm getting lost in the details, I just wanted to show my working environment.

It's done, it's not perfect, but by now I'm fed up with it, so it's sent.

I'm back to Utrecht, by the way :) The trip back was very long and annoying. My plane's departure was delayed 3 hours due to the fog in Spain (budget airlines, yeah, baby). Considering that I had to get up at 5 30 in the morning, that the Internet cafe only opened at 9 00, that I had to wait alone and that I forgot to save the file with Frank's comments in it on the laptop (that's why I needed the Internet cafe for), I wasn't very pleased. I used the meal voucher I got to get an espresso, but probably I should have asked for two. I slept through the flight - I do that recently. Got here and it was kind of warm, very grey and very humid. Yuck. At home the temperature was 32 degrees and it was bright and sunny. Quite a change. I JUST missed the bus, the train and the other bus. Not my day.

I bought half a loaf of bread and some leverworst. I ate half of both straightaway.

I would have liked to stay at home a bit longer. I spent 3 days with the painters and my mother and 3 days at home. I saw Sali, Kata (a girl from my class in high school), Peti (a friend who also went to a UWC), my grandparents, my sister and my dad. I didn't see Irma, András (my 6th year in AC) and Igor (my co-year in AC). It was quite a rush in general. My sister is starting to look like a woman now, and my father is overly protective. She is also starting to look like a real rower with huge bulky shoulders and arms (now, that's not very feminine, but oh, well), palms full of blisters, plasters on the calfs. And she is also becoming very much of a teenager, disrespectful of our father and her coach. My father is taking that quite well, which is surprising for me. Something for something. My mother was completely fine with me having guys around, but almost threw me out of our place twice when I did something that she found disrespectful, saying something like "don't you think I really need you, you should be greatful for being allowed to live with us, you can get out right now, live wherever, under the bridge, I don't care." Ah, good old days. It has changed since then. Maybe because she can be proud of my achievments now. (No wonder I'm an overachiever...) Yay for internalizing external pressures. But maybe because distance puts things into a different perspective. Or maybe it was just a hard period for her. Teenagers tend to look at everything from their own perspective and from their own perspective only. I know it wasn't easy for her.

Anyway, I'm here now, and I'll be here till July at least. I'm starting my lab course with Rosemary today, then I'm giving a workshop in Christel's class tomorrow, then Joram is coming, then I'm going to France for a couple of days for a research meeting, then I'll have another lab course and I'll probably start working on my thesis. It actually sounds quite nice, doesn't it?

Eurovision 2007, compliments to Magdi

My rhythm is completely screwed up. I can't get back to the sleep-at-night, be-awake-during-the-day thing. I spent last night surfing on YouTube and Imeem, and reading literature for the intro of my research paper. Tonight will be similar, except that I'm going to wait for the comments of Frank before continuing with the paper. I had wanted to write something about the Eurovision song contest even before I left for Hungary but I didn't have time, so I'll just do that now.

Urte (my Lithuanian unitmate) described Eurovision as the Olympics for women, gay men, and other men with in touch with their feminine side. What men usually do when watching the Olympics we do when we watch Eurovision. I wouldn't bring it that far, but it's true that Eurovision has a charm on its own. I sometimes watch it for the hillarious performances and sometimes I'm pleasantly surprised when I see a good singer with a great voice (and not with big boobs, long legs and the shortest possible skirt). This year's Hungarian finalist, Magdi Rúzsa, was one of these singers. But before going on about how much in love I am with her voice, a bit about the rest. There were two performances I really liked and which hardly got any points: the one by the French and the one by the Georgians. The French were singing in Franglais and were just generally crazy. The Georgian woman simply had a very powerful voice, and her music blended some folk elements into pop and electric, resulting in a track which reminded me a bit to Madonna's Ray of Light. The worst performance for me was definitely by the Spanish group. The title of the song should say everything: "I love you mi vida". (Now, you might say that it's unfair to like Franglais but not Spanish with English words mixed into it, but this was too much.) Four Ricky Martin-like figures jumping around, feeling sexy and looking extremely gay. I love gay guys but I don't think that their intention was to convey this image... (Although someone once said that I categorize metrosexuals as "gay" and this is completely true, so they might have been simply metrosexual-looking.)

And so, about Magdi. She won the Hungarian version of Idols (Megasztár) and that's how she got on the road to fame (well, hopefully). She has an amazing voice, powerful, clear, and she can sing with such emotion that it's overwhelming to listen to her. Since I discovered how I can embed videos in posts, let her speak (sing) for herself:

1. Her first audition, a capella, Highway to Hell by AC/DC, to get into Megasztár:


2. One of her performances, The winner takes it all, by ABBA:


3. A Hugarian song, originally by Péter Máté:


4. And finally, her performance at the Eurovision song contest, a song she wrote herself, Unsubstantial Blues:


It's fun to watch the finals. 24 very different performances, and even though some of them are very cheesy or overly show oriented, you can feel culture lingering around. I like that. Different languages, styles and folk elements. Variety. I like being European :)

Beautiful and dangerous things

Pablo Neruda's Poema 20:


"Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche.


Escribir, por ejemplo: " La noche está estrellada,

y tiritan, azules, los astros, a lo lejos".


El viento de la noche gira en el cielo y canta.


Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche.

Yo la quise, y a veces ella también me quiso.


En las noches como ésta la tuve entre mis brazos.

La besé tantas veces bajo el cielo infinito.


Ella me quiso, a veces yo también la quería.

Cómo no haber amado sus grandes ojos fijos.


Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche.

Pensar que no la tengo. Sentir que la he perdido.


Oír la noche inmensa, más inmensa sin ella.

Y el verso cae al alma como pasto el rocío.


Qué importa que mi amor no pudiera guardarla.

La noche está estrellada y ella no está conmigo.


Eso es todo. A lo lejos alguien canta. A lo lejos.

Mi alma no se contenta con haberla perdido.


Como para acercarla mi mirada la busca.

Mi corazón la busca, y ella no está conmigo.


La misma noche que hace blanquear los mismos árboles.

Nosotros, los de entonces, ya no somos los mismos.


Ya no la quiero, es cierto, pero cuánto la quise.

Mi voz buscaba el viento para tocar su oído.


De otro. Será de otro. Como antes de mis besos.

Su voz, su cuerpo claro. Sus ojos infinitos.


Ya no la quiero, es cierto, pero tal vez la quiero.

Es tan corto el amor, y es tan largo el olvido.


Porque en noches como ésta la tuve entre mis brazos,

mi alma no se contenta con haberla perdido.


Aunque éste sea el último dolor que ella me causa,

y éstos sean los últimos versos que yo le escribo."



I dare.

In the painters' camp (17 May 2007)

"I'm sitting on a bed in a room that I'm sharing with my mother in a painters' camp, in the Hungarian countryside. The house is beautiful, we're staying in a mansion that used to be the property of an aristocrat a while back alongside the huge terrain of forests and meadows, a lake and the all the wild game living here. Now the place functions as a small hotel for hunters from abroad, catering for your every wish. My mother was hated out from the male-dominated business of hunting (she used to work in the Ministry of Agriculture, then as a professional hunter and now as an expert on hunting) but she still has some of her connections. She managed to organize a painters' camp here, which is one of the most expensive places to stay. She fell in love with painting a good five or six years ago, got to know a lot of hunters-painters and now organizing this camp is basically her yearly holiday. The artists come based on invitation and instead of paying the bill, they leave a painting or two for the Foresting Company. Fair enough, these people are all established artists, so the amount of money they could get for some of the pictures could get some nights covered for sure.

The view from the balcony

So, I'm here and all I've been doing so far was talking to the artists, walking my dog, working on the paper which is supposed to be the end result of my research project, drinking a lot of wine with the rest and eating amazingly good food. My paper is coming along quite well, even though I feel that I'm being lazy about it most of the time. Now it actually starts looking like a real article, with a more or less finished intro, a finished methods and results parts, an abstract, an almost finished discussion and a started conclusion. I decided to finish it tomorrow and send it to Frank, my supervisor, for review. I'll still have a day at least to implement his suggestions. Whenever I'm not working on the paper, I feel a bit guilty, but it's quite nice to listen to the stories of the campers, which helps me forget that I'm supposed to write my paper. They are all middle aged, mostly men and only three women, talking about the times when they were children, and their families still had to buy the ice on the street, when there were no phones and TVs, when they didn't have enough food and they were eating bread with fat not because it was nice but because that was all they had. And then about the army, painting and women, of course.

Me, on the canvas of one of the painters

I'm a strange outsider in the group because I'm not a painter, I'm young, and what's more I'm a young woman. I can very much feel a double attitude towards me, one towards the little girl of mommy in front of whom you're not supposed to tell dirty jokes (or at least you are supposed to say “I shouldn't have said this in front of you”), and the other one towards the young woman reflected in the comments that I have a nice ass and wouldn't minding me having as a girlfriend or jokingly asking whether I'd more to their rooms. It's an interesting experience.

I'm kind of sleepy and just about going to bed but I cannot resist saying something about the food. It's heavenly... Today, we had gulyás and pasta with túró (something like qwark but a hundred times better), sour cream and roasted bacon for lunch. Wow. It was almost like an erotic experience; an overwhelmingly nice and sensual mix of flavors. I haven't had anything like this since I left Hungary. Plus the great wine at every single meal, preceded by the opening shot of pálinka (strong, clear spirit made of fruits), Unicum or Jagermaister. At these moments, I can hardly understand how I can survive on half-eaten pieces of old pizza, crackers and Dining Hall food for months..."

Break in Hungary

Dear Readers,
I won't be able to post for a couple of days as I'm in Hungary, enjoying my well-deserved break!
Love,
Dia

Beach Party 2007

I think that by the time I got to the Beach Party I still had not realized that I was done with my exams and how nice that feeling was. It was only yesterday night, after sleeping through the whole day, when it hit me that I'm done (at least for a week).

Beach Party is the end-of-year party organized in the Beach Party area on the last day of every academic year. Although the name suggests that it has something to do with a beach, it really does not, apart from the theme of the party. The bar staff always get's some free stuff before the party, and this time we got a straw (or boater?, (a hat made of straw)) to wear, which was very funky to dance in, but it was incredibly hot and people enjoyed to nick it while dancing. The Beach Party area is big enough though to accomodate about half of the population of UC and to be the place for an awesome party in general. I left for the party with my unitmates, Urte, Iva and Vida, but I hardly saw them during the party. I spent most of my time dancing with Paul and Dávid's gang. By the time I was supposed to open the Bar for the after party, I was completely exhausted.

So, at 3 45 I started to walk towards the Bar and met Natasha on the way screaming "Dia you're supposed to open the Bar, you're supposed to open the Bar". Jeeez, I know, chill out, that's where I'm going. In fact, Paul already started to open the Bar. The first hour was insane. Scheduling only Paul and I for a normal party shift, for which we usually have 5 people, is not initiation, but is simply stupid. Diederik was helping out for about half an hour, the busiest part of the night, and then we got into a nice routine of running around, tapping, changing kegs etc. Paul was very energetic and I felt like a zombie, and we swapped our moods around closing time: I woke up and he looked very worn out. It slowly got lighter and lighter outside. You know it's time to close when people have been ordering water for the last 20 minutes. We called last round around 6 30, and at 6 45 I was counting the money in the office.

We probably took more than an hour to clean the Bar. No wonder, we were 2 people instead of 4 (that's what we usually have at the end of the night)... And then, the best part: breakfast. We knew already that we wouldn't be in bed till the morning, so we brought some stuff along. We put on some chilled music, sat at the chief corner and had our afterdrinks with our breakfast (rolls with cheese and pancakes). It was the regular sit-by-the-bar-drinking activity that we usually do after closing, but much cosier because it was only the two of us and after a really hard night. We left the Bar a bit before 9 in the morning.

I set my alarm clock for 10 30. Was I too ambitious? Apparently, I was. I really wanted to see Joram's family in Bennekom, because Anne, his mother, was celebrating her birthday, but I missed it. In the morning I thought that I should just leave straightaway, but then my second thought said that I would collapse during the day if I did that. So, I fell asleep. I woke up at 17 45, first thinking that my clock had stopped functioning and then realizing that I had slept through the whole day. So, I missed Anne's birthday, even though I said I would go and I also missed the Big Bar Cleaning too (not as if I haven't had enough cleaning the day before). I missed the whole day!

So, fixing it as much as I could, I wrote an e-mail to Anne explaining what happened and then started to make use of what was left from the day. Not much...

In BarCo 2007-2008! Bar politics.

So, I made it into BarCo 2007-2008; I'm the next Human Resources person when Mav is stepping down! Tonight was the first meeting that the new members were also attending, which was quite nice. One of the first things I realized was that the chain of complaints never ends. When you become a bartender, you see that chiefs are bitching about bartenders and vice versa. Then you become a chief and you realize that chiefs are bitching about bartenders, but also about BarCo, and of course that BarCo is bitching about the chiefs and the bartenders. And so now, I'll be in BarCo, and I can already see that the chain then continues to involve the UCSA Board. And of course, from ASIC experience, I know that then it will also include what students call "College Hall" and what College Hall (since it's just a building) likes to call "the administration". People need circus, bread and a place to complain. Maybe in the circus?

Despite the non-ending chain of bitching, I am very happy! I was already considering to apply for the same position last year, but the person holding the position at that time let me know in subtle ways that she doesn't think I should. In a sense, she was right, because it would have been premature to apply after a year of bartending and chiefing. Now that I have been around for two full years, I have the full experience of chiefing and I have a proper idea of what the life and the politics of the Bar is like and what it should be like.

One thing never to forget is where you come from. I feel like a chief and I want to remain feeling like a chief. I don't like seeing BarCo as the Ivory Tower of governance of the Bar, whose members get gradually detached from their roots. Instead, I think, one should look at all these people as the one group caring about the future of the Bar and trying to work for its betterment, and those in BarCo should remember what it was like to chief without having committed themselves to the duties of BarCo. Let's see whether I can do it. I really care about the chief group, they are the heart of the Bar and they deserve a lot. This semester showed that there is some sense of revolution among the chiefs, and I'm definitely on their side.

The initiation was quite nice. It involved blindfolding, walking through the Quad "following the voice of Mav" (who conveniently forgot to speak), bright lights in the Bar, weird questions and drinks, of course. Dávid (he's now both Treasurer and Building Manager), Paul (Inventory Manager) and I are buddies anyway, and I think we'll make a good team based on committment, professionalism, dedication, sacrifice and love, just to mention some of the words we came up with yesterday.

(I feel better, by the way. Exam stress makes you sick and then cures you, it seems.)

A toast to
... the leaving members of BarCo
... the new BarCo
... and to not forgetting where we come from!

And now I'll write the first e-mail to the bartenders, looking for people to fill a shift. I'll have to get used to the bartender spamlist again. :)

A weekend in bed

Literally. I was incapable of doing anything else. Today is the first day that I feel at least mentally better. Physically.... yuck. But I think the worst part is over. I can feel a change. I missed yesterday's lunch at Rosemary's in Amersfoort, which is a shame, but I don't think I could have contributed anything but my germs and probably it was better for me to stay at home. I got something from Andrzej to take, which makes me breathe easier and cough a bit less. I'll survive.

It's finally raining. When I looked outside this morning and saw the grey curtain of rain, I felt at home. I lived in the same type of rain for two years. It's only the smell of the sea missing, but that wouldn't add much to the experience right now because I can't smell anything.

This illness doesn't make me very creative which is not very convenient when I'm blogging or planning to write a paper. Reading psychopathology is not much better: I keep on thinking "yeah, I have this, and this, and that... oh man, I'm really scr***d up" Isn't the medical student's disease fun?

This has been my hardest semester ever. 4 days left.

Sick...

Well done. Who else can manage to get sick for the last week of the semester and be restricted to bed with a fever and a cough that wakes up the dead?

Anyway, I received this cool invitation to a Labour Day party last week. Unfortunately, I couldn't make it, but I'd like to share the intivation with you. Apparently, the party was great! Credits to Nils Korsvoll (the text is published with his authorization).

"Ok, this is perhaps slightly short notice, but I hope you bear with me, and have time to celebrate Labour Day tomorrow.

This is the day when we can all come together and honour the workers before us, their struggle for equality and political freedom. And raise awareness that this is not something that should be given up at the altar of neo-liberlism. Workers of the world, unite!

In this spirit, I would like to invite you all (and people that due to bureaucratic incompetence have been left out of the mailing list) to celebrate this great day in Kromhout 93, from 9-10 onwards.

Theme will be world liberation, world peace and red.
In the great socialist tradition it would be great if everyone could pitch and bring a little something.
The organisers will be providing some vodka and salsa dip to try and create a firm socialist setting.

(any appropriate music is also appreciated!)

Hope to see you then
Hasta la victoria siempre!"

And another e-mail one day later:

"Please spend two seconds/minutes/hours to think about one thing that you will work hard to improve in the world, and write it down on a piece of paper that you bring to the party.

These will then be skyrocketed into space!
or something a bit cheaper... I mean less polluting."

:)

At home I wouldn't even had to go to uni that day. Here, they don't celebrate Labour Day and I was writing a cog sci exam in the afternoon...

I actually do have a life

I actually do have a life apart from academics. I know it's hard to believe, but I do. So, today, I'm not going to write anything about what's going on in my academic life. Cope with it.

Residence permit
I applied for a residemce permit in November. Not that I needed one to stay here - I've been here for two years already - but I needed one to get a work permit and I needed a work permit to get a sofinummer, which will enable me to work (and which I've been doing since last June, but without any payment). So, today, the first step was completed: I picked up my residence permit from a nice part of town that I've never been to before. Later, while surfing the web, I decided to check out the website of the immigration service. You know, maybe I could find some interesting news. And there was the BIG news: I don't need the residence permit any more. Yay. What can I say now? I know I wouldn't have been able to work earlier in any case, but still, it feels a bit useless that I put energy into getting it and now it's just a beautiful little useless card with my hologram on it (which is quite funky actually: if you turn the card towards light, you can see my face appearing through the card). I guess now I can apply for a sofinummer straight.

Room
I cleaned my room and I did my laundry. 3 full loads in the washing machine, including my bedding. I'm actually quite proud of myself. Laundry you just need to do once in a while, but cleaning the room can be avoided till you don't find your keys/bankcard/phone (but that you can call)/homework. I can't deny that there was a tiny bit of procrastinative component in the cleaning, but my rationalization was that while I am organizing the space I live in, I can organize my thoughts and eventually, I will also create an optimal environment to work in. And I still haven't found my debit card. (No, it wasn't the reason.)

Shopping
Since I haven't been properly off campus for about a month, I thought I should get a couple of yummi things for the exam period on my way back from the city. I went for crackers, raspberries and pineapple stukjes.

BarCo interview
I was so incredibly anxious and I can't even explain why. I know these people so well! For those, who don't know what BarCo is, BarCo is the six people organizing the life and the supply of the UCSA Bar. They are the ones making sure that everything is running smoothly and they are the ultimate responsible people for the Bar. (So, BarCo is on the top, then the chiefs and then the bartenders, and traditionally you can only enter the chain from below, although there have been exceptions.) I am applying for the position of Human Resources, i.e. the person who makes the monthly schedules and makes sure that every single shift is covered. I think it's a very nice job and I think I could do it well. But based on the interview yesterday, I'm not sure what they think now. They had good questions but I was suprised that they didn't refer to my ideas explained in my application form at all. Let's see. There is quite some competition for the position, so it's going to be interesting.

Going home
I reserved a ticket last week for the short break between the spring semester and the summer semester. I'll be flying out to Budapest on the 15th and I'll be back on the 22nd. I hope to finish my *beeeeep* at least by the middle of that week, so that I can relax and enjoy the company of my friends and my family. I really need it.