Chores Day

Since it was Wednesday today, that meant I had the day off, which is a super thing. I was going to go to the American library to inventory like a fool, but I decided to put that off in favor of more domestic tasks. I’ve never actually cleaned the apartment, just kind of moved stuff from one location to the next. So I underwent that enormous burden all afternoon. I started with going to the grocery store to get food. ED failed me; they take a two hour lunch break, from 12:30 until 2:30. That’s bizarre and not a good business practice, and I walked over to the trusty Leader Price. I feel like making a list of the food I bought.

(in order on the receipt)

1. Mineral Water (1 liter) 0.48 euros

2. Leader Price Coffee Ice Cream 1.75 euros

3. Brick of Mushrooms 1.99 euros

4. Pack of Rice Milk Chocolate (5 bars) 1.10 euros

5. Frozen Chinese Vegetables 2.95 euros

6. Muesli Cereal 1.99 euros

7. Orange Juice (1 liter) 0.63 euros

8. Orange Soda (1 can) 0.16 euros

9. Sour Cream 0.99 euros

10. Fry Sauce 1.39 euros

11.Long Grain Rice 0.59 euros

12.Baguette 0.49 euros

13.Eggs (24 pack) 2.15 euros

14.Flan Pack (2 Flans) 1.49 euros

15.Packet of Cheese (2) 2.18 euros

16.Mexican Salsa 1.36 euros

17.Dish Soap (1 liter) 0.73 euros

18.Chicken Breast (2 pieces) 1.89 euros

19.Iodized Salt (1 kilogram) 0.21 euros

Grand total: 24.52 euros. I generally go shopping once a week.

I came home, ate some ice cream (deliciously good for 1.75 euros), read my book about Paris (also quite good), then began the cleaning. It was gross. First I started with the kitchen. I’m not even going to list the tasks, although I want to. Needless to say, I feel gross now. I did all of my laundry, which had been slowly piling in various corners around the apartment. It’s now hanging on the ropes that cross the balcony, since we aren’t allowed to use the lines that go over the main square. The landlady chastised us about that before since she said that there are offices in this building and that it’s ‘unprofessional’ if someone looks up and there’s laundry hanging. She should have bought us a dryer, then.

Since I put off the library today, that means that I have to get up early tomorrow and get two hours in before my 1:30 history class. I have a lot of work to catch up on, ugh.

I’m going to go read more of my book and savor more of that ice cream. Mmm.

Also, to gloat, it went up to about seventy degrees today. Yeah, I was sweating. I hate when that happens, don't you? Hah.

Brussels, Part Twenty

With Detrick in this photo is Hot Tokyo Fashion Design Boy. We had two very heated games of checkers. It wasn’t pretty.

Two of the Bordeaux Boys, Paul and Sandy. Sandy was really cute but really spazzy.

Fanta World is gonna be big. But only until the end of June.

The Metro was a joke. You didn’t really have to buy tickets.

Pretty cool escalator signage.

Why? Because it’s Belgium.

Brussels, Part Nineteen

American Kickboxer II, by popular demand.

This was gross. It was a seedy cesspool of shopping carts and old tires, and a random hollowed house.

Despite walking for about two hours, Paul and I couldn’t find the Atomium. I was content just having Titeuf interact with it on a mural.

Oh, pastries.

Angelina! Wait, nevermind.

The black rats frightened the willies out of poor Paul. I must admit that they were scary as heck. Look at their ears. They looked all gnawed and crinkly, like … ew, I don’t even like looking at them now. Next picture.

Kitty! Wait, never mind. It’s actually a bunny.

Aahhh!

Brussels, Part Eighteen

The terrific map from the hostel recommended the 10^th floor of this parking garage as a panorama of the city, and woo! It was great! A bit windy, but a good photo opportunity. This is the two-d church from before.

I think at this point of my journey I was starting to have a nervous breakdown because I saw this sign, took a picture really quick, and then could not stop laughing. Butt and Sons! If that was my name, I would also open a liquor store to perpetuate the Butt legacy. Irish Paul said that in Dublin there’s a Butt Bridge, named after a Prime Minister or someone named Mr. Butt.

So of course I had to wiki it, and I am chuckling to myself in this quiet, quiet library. There's a Pakistani tribe called the Kashmiri Butts. There's a lot of sporty Butts - there's a wrestler, a cricketer, a hockey plater, a batsman, and a male model.

A butt of wine is equal to two hogsheads.

Tradition has that George, Duke of Clarence, the brother of Edward IV of England was drowned in a butt of malmsey, February 18, 1478.

You're nothing but a butt of malmsey.

There are a ton of famous Butts.

A man named Alfred Mosher Butts invented Scrabble.

Heh, it does exist.

Ahh! Tides and a schooner! Oh, wait. Just a mural. Phew.

Of course, I was drawn by an invisible magnet to the only thrift store in Brussels. Here are Currency Curtains for the miser in all of us.

I really, really wanted this wrestling outfit.

Can anyone explain this stuffed animal to me? I can only assume it’s a play on Woody Allen, but is it a potato? Why does it have yellow feet?

The trip to Belgium was entirely worth it if only to see two men leading a monkey out of a convenience store.

Brussels, Part Seventeen

They are all about slaves here.

What a classy Pizza Hut. Yes, I broke down and went. I had to! And oh oh oh, it was everything I imagined it would be. I chose one tiny piece of mushroom for propriety's sake and then made a beeline for the Supreme. I think overall I had a half pizza's worth.

I was so delirious with joy that I forgot to take a picture of my plate, which means I had to have been pretty out of it. I did have to wait long enough to laugh at the Dutch translation of the soup bar. They call it the Bar of Soep. Hee.

Lauren, these are the shoes for you. Zaz shoes - how hip would you be?

From another angle. Even I want these shoes.

Be still, my tender heart! This is Arienne’s birthday present. They didn’t know! It wasn’t their green onions! I honestly would have gone here as well but it was literally ten minutes after we left the Pizza Hut and I was still reeling in post-meal bliss.

Brussels, Part Sixteen

I declare this the best picture I’ve ever taken in my entire life. It surpasses even that kangaroo that deserves to be on a poster. I didn’t even mean to have that building in the background – it was a fortunate reflection off of the display window. I was just laughing at how politically incorrect an Asian-man mask would be if you wore it to a party. I just set it as my desktop background, thereby replacing the long-held fish print.

Guten Tag! More stereotype fun from the Party Store.

Mister Snake Charmer, what tiny feet you have!

Amigos! A Mariachi man.

What kind of boring party would you be having to pick up a Statue of Liberty print?

Ahoy, Arienne! I’m the poor man’s Jack Sparrow! Arrr! This is part two of your birthday present! Ye be warned.

Brussels, Part Fifteen

Their malls are strikingly similar to our own. Yawn.

I don’t think that this pizza could have been made to look any less appetizing.

At HEMA, they had rows upon rows of yummy Easter candy. Most of them looked perfectly delicious.

Yet some were perfectly terrifying.

Aagh! Yikes! Do you know what this reminds me of? That bunny that was shrink-wrapped at the grocery store. Jeez, look at its face! Horrible.

Some chicks just won’t make it home this year.

Brussels, Part Fourteen

Miki! Did you open a chain of Asian-themed fast food restaurants?

Let’s play Guess-the-Fried-Food. I spy chicken fingers… and pretty much everything else is unrecognizable.

From a more industrial angle.

Our familiar friend, the Manneken Pis, with hot and tasty fry goodness.

This was the billards table at the hostel. The balls were the colors of the Belgian flag, natch. Take note of the large pee stain on the left hand side.

Here’s Detrick and that Bordeaux Boy whose name I never remembered.

Ahh, the oft-forgotten country of Yogurtlandia.

What time is it? It’s Valentime’s!

Brussels, Part Thirteen

Later that evening, we all went out to the Delirium, a bar that is probably the most well-known in Brussels since they serve 2004 types of beer. I kind of doubt that claim but I’m sure that there’s some guy that comes in every night and works his way down the menu, which was this huge folder the size of a phone book. I didn’t get anything since we had just had fries, but the boys said that it was good.

The walls and ceilings were completely covered with trays. Here’s Detrick and Paul. Paul was an ex-seminary student from Dublin who made the journey to Brussels in the hopes of getting a job with the European Union. Detrick had been studying at the University of Ghent for the past six months working on his masters in economy.

Brussels at Night.

I love funny restaurant signs.

I don't even know what this place was.

I bet this is a relaxed, easy-going place of business.

Hee.