What the universe said

I quit my job last Wednesday.
Everything's going to be ok.

Freelance office

Two observations:

1. There's no milk in the fridge. Where are the interns, and why aren't they doing their job and filling the fridges with milk??? How can I write if I can't drink my standard coffee with milk?
Is it too much to ask to have some freaking milk around???
(Huff, hair flick, pout)

2. Two colleagues are talking about robots having feelings and how in this day and age it should be possible. Totally normal. Totally serious. Totally ok with me.

The shift

Art by my favourite street artist, C215

“And when the event, the big change in your life, is simply an insight--isn't that a strange thing? That absolutely nothing changes except that you see things differently and you're less fearful and less anxious and generally stronger as a result: isn't it amazing that a completely invisible thing in your head can feel realer than anything you've experienced before? You see things more clearly and you KNOW that you're seeing them more clearly. And it comes to you that this is what it means to love life, this is all anybody who talks seriously about God is ever talking about. Moments like this."

― Jonathan Franzen, The Corrections

Retrospective #10 - Ooooh la la

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I went to Paris with my sister and brother in November when they came to visit. I loooooved it. I'm not sure anyone could hate Paris. How the hell could you?

I was getting so ridiculously french while I was there. I had a glass of champagne before every meal as an apertif, bought red lipstick and wore high heels every day.

I accompanied my sister shopping, and in turn took them to the European photography museum and went to a cool little tea house. We also ate some kickass Vietnamese and Japanese food, and had a totally luxe 3 Michelin star lunch at Hotel Le Bristol where the pre G20 summit meetings were being held and we saw Gordon Brown. I sat up straight, wore a skirt and ate 9 courses for lunch.

I also had a sneaky lunch of escargots and french onion soup by myself!

These are some highlights from the mobile phone. I took my Fish eye camera but most of the photos are real duds.

The Chosen one - street art in Paris

OMG. Macarons and other assorted cavity inducing perfections at Pierre Herme.
I had a citrus tart for breakfast and I was not ashamed.


Escargots

The 11 Commandments of living in Paris

Garden of Luxembourg

Garden of Luxembourg

Garden of Luxembourg

Playing peekaboo with the Eiffel Tower

Dream come true

Quote of the day

" What are we running our aeroplanes on? Champagne?"

- Anonymous colleague

(in response to learning about our company's third consecutive profit warning because of "rising fuel costs" while all our competitors are in a very good financial state.)

Let's just say, learning about the demise of your company via The Wall Street Journal was kind of a hilarious experience. Only because it felt stupidly surreal.

Loud n clear?!?

Hey Universe

Do you need a hearing aid?

Perhaps you're not au fait with the english language and I need to do more interpretive dance?

Or can you not read my handwriting?

Should I write in red 172 point font?

Because I am pretty sure I am doing everything I am supposed to be doing on my end and this was a two way deal.

Museum N8

Museum N8. aka Museum night, is when all the museums in Amsterdam (and in some other dutch cities) are open until 2am, and they host events, parties, DJs, bands and you get to hang out and see everything and party.

This year's agenda wasn't as compelling (compared to last year) but I always wanted to go, so I went anyway. And it wasn't as good as I thought it would be, but nonetheless, an experience.

Over heard whilst leaving a lame museum....

Guy: Well, I mean, let's not forget the reason we're all here...
Girl: (perkily) The alcohol?
Guy: (confused) Err. No... the art...

Idea. It's Free.

It occurred to me the other day that I am probably going through my second adolescence in Amsterdam.

Getting things out of my system that I never got to do, in order to be a (hopefully) more balanced, more stable adult who will have no regrets and then one day be with another well balanced, stable adult.

Together, there may be a chance we could create, rear, guide and nourish well balanced and stable children.

Getting things out of my system is one thing that could happen, or the other thing that could happen is that it becomes a way of life...

Anyway why would I think that I'm living the life of a pubescent teenager straight out of a Judy Blume novel, you may ask?

Well because I spend my free time gladly making things like this:

Not exactly what the kids in Judy Blume books were getting up to, but a little juvenile nonetheless, non?

This kind of activity is not something people with white-collar corporate jobs do, at this age.

People in normal corporate white collar corporate jobs go to the gym, learn how to bake, watch a leisurely game of tennis or perhaps play squash after hours.

They don't make stencil art.

In case you haven't been keeping up to speed, what you see above is the result of a thought I had one day at the office which I wrote in this post.

But I don't care.

Adolescence number #2 is proving to be an interesting time indeed.

The reality

Twee

It's my two year anniversary of living in Amsterdam on Sunday.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGHHHHHH. Your ego is getting in the way of legibility.

Dutch Colleague: We need to talk about your copywriting.

Me: What's wrong with the copy?

Dutch Colleague: This word is wrong... and this one... and this one.

Me: There's nothing wrong with it. (reading) It was written by an agency in the UK, I checked and corrected it, and had this checked by our boss... you know, the American one. He's approved this.

Dutch colleague: But shouldn't this word be in the past tense? I don't think it makes sense.

Me: Are you honestly asking me to correct my writing?

Dutch colleague: Well, I just want to know why you used this word instead of another one? It doesn't sound right.

Me: Is english your first language? Have you spoken it for the last 26 years and written it and earnt a business degree in it in the last, say 5 years?

Dutch colleague: umm...

Me: Right. I'll be at the coffee machine.

Some friendly banter amongst colleagues

Tuesday 11.30am

People have been coming up to me all morning, saying "hi", asking how my holiday was.

Considering I came back to the office having been told only a few days before that 20% of the office would be made redundant by September, I thought it was nice that people were still caring about how my month off was.

I am standing by the coffee machine, waiting for my first coffee of the day to be pumped out of the pipes of automated caffeine mediocrity.

Footsteps turn the corner and suddenly the Global Sales and Marketing Director is standing infront of me.

He looks at me.

I look at him.

Him: HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII! (bellowing)

I look blankly at him, processing this sudden and hospitable invitation to exchange dialogue. Upon realising that he is, in fact, talking to me, I beam him a 1000 watt smile back.

Me: Well, hello!

(pause)

Did he realise that I've been gone for a month? Did he miss me? Did the campaign go so well after I left that I've etched a permanant place in his mental "Employees to keep on payroll" file?

Me: Uh, so, how ARE you?

Him: Well - personally, everything is fantastic! (bellowing)

Other people in the open plan office and are now craning their necks to really see if the Sales and Marketing Director is talking to me about his personal life, openly.

Upon confirmation that he is, they continue to watch this sudden and bold interaction.

Me: That's great to hear.

(pause)

Me: ... And...errr... everything else?

Him: Well, there could be improvements.
(His face is stern, voice is 2 decibels higher than I have ever heard them in my entire history of working for this company. A whole solid 1 year and 8 months.)

This tall, lanky, powerful, and usually reserved dutch man is scaring me. I am scared. I just don't know what to do.

He rarely leaves his office, or tears his face away from his computer monitor. 40 other men in suits report to him and he is in charge of making the money flow into this corporation and making sure it is a global name everybody knows. He has a lot of responsibility.

People in the office would jostle their grandmothers out of the way to get 2 minutes of face to face time with him.

I have spoken to him about 5 times in my life.
Once when I went to the photocopier and he was standing there and I unjammed it for him.
Once when we won the B2B Marketing awards in London and he popped some champagne and made a little "I'm proud" speech for us.
Another awkward photocopier moment.
Another time he called me into his office for me to tell him what campaigns were running for the year so he could make a powerpoint slide.
And another time when I was asking him to give me about 40,000 euros to take some photos. (Which he did.)

(Note: All interactions went reasonably well. ie. I didn't say or do anything stupid. Wait, there was that time at last year's christmas party when I was in an awkward conversation circle with him and after some banter about food and bad food in Amsterdam, I ended up asking him what time I could come over for his annual "cook for my direct reports dinner". He just straight up told me I wasn't invited. I thought that was kind of cool. )

Conversation continues...

Me: Could be improvements huh? .... Uh... anything I can do to help?

I am stirring sugar into my coffee, and wondering... what is the appropriate thing to say in this situation?!? Surely, I've just said the right thing?!

Him: You could start by getting our sales force out there and telling them to sell more stuff!

I look up from my coffee stirring. Does he know who I am and what I actually do here?
I look over to our Field Sales Director who happens to be sitting a metre from this whole show. I am on friendly terms with him. He is looking at me with a nervous smile.

He gets out of his chair and comes to the coffee machine.

Me: I shall draft the memo now!

(I am trying to sound helpful and triumphant)

I clutch my coffee and the Field Sales Director comes and pushes some buttons on the coffee machine.

Global Sales and Marketing guy: Tell him (pointing to Field Sales Director) to get onto his people!


Then Global Sales and Marketing Director gets distracted and talks to a Product Manager who has overheard this conversation and is chuckling. They share some jovial banter.

I look at Field Sales Director.

FSD: That's what you get for sitting close to the coffee machine.

Me: Here I am minding my own business, getting a cafe au lait, and suddenly I'm responsible for the fall of the empire! (I chuckle.)

FSD: No, I meant me. (He's smiling but sounds kind of glum.)

Me: Oh.

I take a side step and sip of my coffee and stand there for a second, before wandering back to my desk.

Don't give me that look. What look? THAT look.

I once said to someone,

"There's only one look that's ever on my face - and that, is the look of honesty."

Translated into: I show every emotion which is going on inside of me, whether I like it or not.

I know this because people tell me all the time the exact thing that I am thinking, and that disturbs me greatly.

Apparently, I am an open book. Maybe not a book. Maybe an open magazine with scruffy dog eared pages. ( Always lose recipes and pictures I like in magazines unless I do this.)

What is the opposite of a Poker face?

How about a BINGO face?

As in the game that old people play? As in, they get antsy if they are closeto getting their combination of numbers in order to win? Or screaming at the top of their octogeneric lungs when they have won?

I think I care too much about things.

I am way too opinionated about things that I shouldn't even be concerned about.

There are some words I should really be channelling at the moment, and I am going to do my best to start with these words today:

NONCHALANT

ALOOF

UNPERTURBED


I am going to come up with a technique for dealing with things I hear/see/sense that all of a sudden shock me/annoy me/disturb me.

Just like the Seinfeld version of "Serenity Now", I need to think of something that makes me laugh, or smile serenely. Hmmmm, what could be that mechanism...?

Maybe I could just go to my happy place...

- Amsterdam Roots Festival or WOMADelaide.
- My recent holiday back to Australia
- My recent birthday party in Amsterdam where my friends presented me with not one but 2 birthday cakes and sung to me in dutch and english.

Or maybe I could think about things like

- winning a scholarship to gastronomy university
- getting made redundant, being paid out for the trouble and then being offered a full time travel blogging job

Thought du jour: Why waste energy that could go into YOUR transformation worrying about others are doing/not doing? Some people are Phoenixes and others are fodder.

Pick Up lines you should never use #17: The "biological clock"

"So, uh... in case you were wondering, my womb is pretty vacant ... what are you doing later?"

- developed by Laura O, Carmen G, and me.

The kids are hard core

My apartment. 8:30pm, Friday night

Sounds of dull thudding basslines are emanating from the little park across the road which is behind a primary school. Momentary pause of thudding followed by chants of "One- Two - Three" in dutch and a thousand pre-pubescent girly voices scream in enthusiasm after the count of three.

Me: How old do those girls sound? Like 12?

Flatmate: Yeah, it sounds like a kiddy party.

After the screaming dies down, thumping bass continues into fast paced house track, then gets manipulated by an invisible DJ and wound right down into a reggae track with an MC rapping over the slow groove.

It sounds, to be frank, highly charged with sexual connotations.

Me: The 12 year olds are listening to reggae here?

Flatmate's girlfriend: Only in Amsterdam..!*

* I'm guessing she meant that in the rest of the Netherlands, the 12 year olds are not as "urban" per se, and would be listening to more wholesome, conservative things... for example; dutch pop like De Toppers.

Jesus. Am I getting old? Making the call on what 12 year olds should and should not be listening to? I mean, I was listening to Britney Spears (speaking of sexually explicit) when I was about 16... and R n B songs that were screaming hoochie mama this, and mo fo that when I was about 12.

Shit. I am getting old.

Badge of honour

The eve of my 29th birthday.

I'm arranging my catchups, accomodations, flights, and goodbyes on facebook.

Whilst I am perusing the profiles of other people, I think: "I have no boyfriend - I seem to be an emotional retard."

Then I think,: "I have a job with the United Nations - I seem to be pretty freaking awesome."

So I updated my employer information. Just so when I do turn 29, I have something to smile about, and remember how far I have come. (And maybe, just maybe, remind anyone who wishes to know, about how freaking cool I am.)

Because why should your relationship status become the sole something so freaking special to gloat about on the online self publicity machine?

We got a comedian on our hands

"You do realise 'Eat Pray Love' is already a book?"

- my second oldest friend Caitlin's response to me drawing breath about my adventures and learnings in life overseas thus far.

The $64 question

I'm home for a little while, for the first time in 2 years.

I haven't seen my parents in 1.5 years, since I went to Indonesia to visit them.

I picked my parents up from the airport this morning, and I went to hug my mother.

The first things she said to me mid-hug?

"Hi darling...... Are you still drunk (from last night)?"

Wow mum. Wow.

(For the record, no, I wasn't.)

Corporations: where creativity goes to die.

I told a good friend/colleague today about an idea I had for a stencil I wanted to make for some guerilla street art. It just came to me as I sat down to my computer today.

When I showed it to her, she said "I don't get."

I asked her what's not to get.

And she said " What is it supposed to do? Are YOU going to paint these somewhere? And if so, where?"

"On the side of this office building." I retorted.

Her mouth gaped open in shock.

"I'm kidding." I sighed. And I walked back to my desk and kept typing.

Fucking corporate types.

Brussels = Salmon + Pickles

I went to Brussels last weekend. (aka. The town of salmon and pickles - coined by me because French culture and dutch culture don't seem to be the most blendable of things. Funnily enough this is also how the Belgians see it, having been without a properly formed government for the past 7.5 months because of the reality that...surprise, surprise, french culture and dutch culture are VASTLY different.)

Fun and weird at the same time. Met lots of nice, intellectual and funny individuals. They study important things like International human rights law and Conflict and Security, and I am pretty damn sure that all of them will change or shape the world for the better. I'm going to turn on the news one night and see these people ratifying treaties for the disarment of nuclear situations or bringing North and South Korea together as one. Mark my words.

Some of these heresaid people came with me to see a bit of my world in their city ( ie. less about articles, books and treaty documents and more about arts, culture and theatre) We ended up seeing one of the best performance art pieces I am likely to see in my entire life.


When we rolled up to the theatre, a lady led us outside of the theatre and took us to a metro stop. We had no idea what we were doing there, until some guy on the opposite platform starts harassing one of the people I was with about taking photos of him (with my camera.)

It wasn't until he turned his boom box on that the penny dropped and I suddenly realise the performance had already begun. We were watching street theatre and breakdancing where it was born and bred - on the streets.

Then we went to see some guy eat yogurt at an intersection, and he was talking in dutch and I lost the point of it all. Too avante gard for me. I was exceptionally confused when he ran away from us. Then we were led back into the theatre and the show in the theatre was amazing, and powerful.

Just a casual game between friends... infront of a palace. BSIS lads get into a game of football - infront of the grand palace Leopold built after colonising Congo.

A couple of pensive characters @ Le Montmartre bar

Another pensive one: this time at a beautiful little secret called L'Atelier bar


The gi-normous Belgian Beer selection at L'Atelier


The entrance of L'Atelier. We were almost going to give it a miss because it was closed when we got there but the owners turned up at the same time, chased after us and let us in as they opened. Magical.

Hip Hop(e) @ KVS ( Royal Flemish Theatre)

Being led down the Rabbit Hole.


"Take my picture dude!"

Bad Ass.

Man eating yoghurt. At an intersection.