In Image

Thru the Lens

I started my new job just a little over 10 days ago now and I'm still trying to find some sort of rhythm that will allow me to fit all my normal activities in and around my new work-shedule. It'll take a while before I'll successfully strike the right balance, and so I will have to ask you to bear with me on this, both in terms of blogging and social contact. I crammed as many social events into my after-work hours last week and it still feels like I've got major catching up to do. But the new workload is challenging and intense, and because I'd like to make a good contribution to the team as soon as possible, I feel like I (for a while at least) need to devote a few hours after work to catch up with all the new things I've been introduced to at work. So I don't loose grip on things until I've been properly trained up.

I have some personal news to tell you all and have mentally drafted 4 non-personal blog topics as well, all of which I'd like to jot down when I find some spare time later this weekend or week. Suffice it to say that I love the job, and that I'm confident some sort of new structure of social life/ work/ blogging/ personal stuff will emerge before too long, which will allow me to take everything on board as usual.

The quickest way to document things right now, is by using my camera phone for easy snapshots. My Fisheye Lens got scratched and I've yet to find a good replacement, so my stencil-shots are taken with a standard lens at the moment.

- Life In Transit -

- Pigeon Domination -

I'm sure most of you have at one time or other been witness to one of my infamous pigeon rants. You know the one: That I have a sneaky paranoid suspicion that pigeons are secretly plotting world domination. Because if you think about it, it all adds up. They have strategically positioned themselves in all our open spaces (easy mass-attack positions), they persistently shit on all our important landmarks and monuments (acts of rebellion), they embody breeding grounds for all sort of nasties and evil germs to which our own immune systems have yet to build resistance (mass production of biological weapons) and well, they look downright shifty what with their beady eyes snapping back and forth constantly on those freakishly dislocated heads of theirs. So I'm convinced pigeons are evil creatures plotting world domination.

Needless to say the recent emergence of pigeon-based stencils around Ghent is making me feel a little uneasy. They are everywhere. This one was positioned right next to an ATM machine. Call me paranoid, but I'd say the Pigeons have stepped up their plotting a notch. I am highly in favor of initiatives such as those taken by Faits Divers (a resto in Ghent), where you are promised a free beverage if you successfully snap the neck of one of the pigeons on their terrace.

[Disclaimer: A highly squeamish individual myself, I would never dream of wringing a pigeon's neck (despite the allure), so all you treehuggers: Back Off!]

- Don't Hold Back for My Benefit -

- Ghent Stencils -

- Cracks in the Foundation -

Excessive Happiness Alert

Stick a fork in me, I'm done *happy grin*

Not only did I have a fab first few days at my new job, I also got to spend my weekend with a totally hot babe AND I'm chomping on one DELICIOUS chocolate egg as we speak. *buzzzz* Would be hard-pressed to beat a moment like this ;)

My very first workday was interesting to say the least. You all know what it's like. A bit of a restless night beforehand, three cups of coffee in the morning instead of a proper breakfast because you feel like you may just throw up, you're that excited. And then of course, you've had so much caffeine down yer system, you have to stop at every other petrol station for a quick wee. If then, due to a lapse in focus, you also accidentally end up on the wrong motorway and don't realise so till you're well stuck in its snail-paced traffic, the wee voice in yer head going "you're SO fired before you've even started" becomes a tad hard to crush.

But I DID eventually make it onto the right motorway and into work and instead of being told off, I received the warmest welcome anyone could possibly hope for. Gran's notorious juice and biscuit overdose simply fades by comparison. My new colleagues are warm, interesting and clever, the boss has a humongous array of experience and expertise to tap into and seems focused on trying to bring out the best in all of us. The work itself is varied and challenging. I am slowly getting a better grasp on what it is exactly a job as Scientific Management Consultant entails. It appears to be a very nice blend of "detective work", background research, content design, writing, high-level data processing, strategic management and expertise provision. And while most people assume I'd resent the long drive to work (110kms), I find myself actually motivated to start my day and am happily tired at the end of it.

I can feel you're all gradually getting the urge to strangle me for my display of excessive happiness but before you all start loading up yer guns to shoot the dopey happy grin right off my face, let me just up the ante a bit. I'm thinking big kick-ass Kalashnikovs here.

So, not only did I have a fab first few days at work, I got to spend my weekend in the company of downright sexy cheekiness. The whole thing was extremely random and impulsive, but it's Tuesday and I've STILL got a moronic grin on my face, which surely is testimony to a lucky hit. While it seems totally superfluous to err on the side of caution with just how much I divulge about it all just now, I intend to fully enjoy the ride and report on it properly in due course. (And yes, this totally explains the absence of the latest Sunday Struggle)

On a slightly different note, I ended up at Sfeer this weekend in Flanders Expo, and can I just warn anyone thinking of going not to waste their precious 12 euros on what basically is a megalomaniac amalgamation of Carpetland and Brico clones. The lack of innovative design was simply appalling and the only fun feature was trying to score freebies to gain back those wasted euros. Although, I hardly think a few chocolates, a chunk of Parmesan cheese and a waffle tally up to 12 euros.

And to round up this grin-fest, I'd like to leave you with a sneak preview of the new Scottish I-Pod (Via Jo)

The Sunday Struggle #5

Bored today? You could...

- Go outside (keep reading ;)

- Jot down any weird questions that pop up in your head during the long workweek and submit them to the Mad Scientist's Network (preferably no questions in the Biophysics field or they may ask me to answer them and I'm on holidays next week ;). Here's a good example to get your creative juices going: How could/would you burp in Zero Gravity?

- Take a moment to appreciate some homegrown architecture & design with a high drool-factor: Glenn Sestig Architects. I would however, NOT recommend a visit to the Glenn Sestig Restaurant (Kortedagsteeg, Ghent) as the food's disproportionately overpriced in terms of its quality. Or to quote a Dutch proverb: "Schoenmaker blijf bij je leest". Especially when one does the latter so exceedingly well.

- Or for the PhD Students who've not collected enough data of their own yet: Play with other people's data and create your own weird conclusions.

- Roll your eyes at a bit of excellent geek humor ;)

- You could bookmark 3191 : Two female photographers, living 3191 miles apart, share 1 photo blog.

- Plan your next underground party

- Or help me track down the parameters of The Awesome Floating Bed: I have searched everywhere for more specifics. As a PhD in Magnetism (well... kind of) I would really like to know the weight of the bed and the actual magnetic material (I suspect it's a composite)... so I could spend my own Sunday struggling through calculations of the magnetic field strengths needed to repel the bed from the base-magnet. I seriously doubt it's safe to have credit cards, pacemakers or mobile phones nearby, but man does it look impressive!! *grin*

- Or, to round it all off, we could indulge in a bit of Civil Engineer-bashing (an all-time favorite amongst us "cool" physicists;) .... The Tacoma Narrows Bridge Disaster

-Cartoons courtesy of XkCd (thanks Oirish!)-

Invites

To get your invite to this weekend's Fais La Fête te Séduit, click here.

(Thx to Matt for this tip)

Pew owns a flat

... or rather... a mortgage to one ;-)

At 18.30h this evening, I officially put my signature on the deeds and I have to admit, I felt like breathing into a paper bag for quite a while afterwards. The reality is finally hitting home. I have responsibilities now people. Responsibilities!! Pew's all grown up now ;-)

If all goes well, I will be moving into my new little nest in a month or two. This will of course be accompanied by a little celebratory event, the details of which will be safely distributed to you offline so as to not further compromise what little remains of my anonymity *cough*.

While I will refrain from dispensing my new future coordinates here, I WILL lift a tip of the veil and give you a glimpse of my new stead:

- Pew's new nest. (I know, it needs a bit of work) -

On an entirely different note, I am on a mission to discover Ghent's greatest dining places, and this evening I followed a supposedly "hot tip" from my brother dearest: Martino, in the Vlaanderenstraat. Anyone hoping to die of cardiac arrest or lard-overdose, or anyone wishing to chase a stinking hangover with some grease, this is most definitely the place to be.

And to all my music-obsessed British friends out there, guess who I sat next to this evening... indeed, none other than the DeWaele Brothers (Soulwax, 2Many DJs). And for the last time, no, I'm not inclined to ask their autographs for you lot. There's a reason these people like living in Ghent, everyone ignores them *grin*.

Off to Brussels now to pick up a load of trouble (see previous post)

Tropical Confusion

It's never a good sign when you wake up with your head at the wrong end of the bed. That, incidentally, happens rather a lot of late. I dread to think just exactly what goes on in my dreams for my body to want to make a complete 180 degree turn overnight, but waking up upside down is generally a pretty solid foreboding about the rest of my day.

As you might have gathered from my second-last post, I'm ill again. I'm sure it's just a bout of that cold epidemic that's been going around, but I've been laying low nonetheless. The irony of it all is that tonight, I'm due to pick up Dr.Jim's mischievous other half at the airport in Brussels, as she's coming for a girlie visit for a few days. Last time Dr.Jim & Lou were over in Ghent with me, I was a pretty appalling host what with snot-rags spread around me left, right and centre, and I had promised them a healthier reception on a next attempt.

Anyway, I woke up this morning thinking my feeble body could do with a bit of sunshine and some extra vites so as to make a good appearance for my guest, but then, as usually happens in Belgeland, the view from the window promised little more than rain. So, I hauled myself over to the solarium. *Hangs head in shame* I know I know. Not THE brightest of ideas, but like I said, it was just bound to be one of those days.

After getting myself all undressed and goosebumpey, I went to lie down on what looked like a very modern sunbed. Too modern apparently. Once the lights came on, an exotic female voice announced that she'd be guiding me through the tanning process. Slightly panicked, I thought: "wot?! surely it's nothing more than pressing a button and getting baked golden?! I mean, once the lights are on, what more does a person need?!"

Not so.

Apparently, there's facial tanners, ab-tanners, bum tanners, facial fans, whole body fans, mp3 sound options, time delay mechanisms, head-tilt options AND an option to switch off the lady's exotic voice. So here's me thinking: "I just need to focus on finding the lady's off switch, so I can quietly revel in the idea of being on a sunny beach somewhere random." But of course, in all my blondness, I pressed the wrong button, inadvertently turning all fans on max speed, making it feel rather more like I was trying to survive a hurricane, rather than having a quiet one on the beach. It took me exactly 1.5 minutes to disable the fans. I'm sure that'll have helped my head-cold tremendously.

A disastrous couple of attempts later, I finally managed to disable the Lady's voice, only to see the lights turned off a few seconds later. Clearly, my time was up. Now... can I just say that all this confusion is extremely dangerous for a blonde like myself. I was so distracted by the interface, that I didn't even notice I had started to sunburn.

I would kindly request people not to hug, handshake, brush past or touch me for the next few days. Fank ewe.

Collective Cultural Memory

I spent my Friday night propped up on a barstool at a cocktail bar in Ghent, flanked by two wonderfully entertaining friends. The atmosphere was cosy, the mixers tasty, conversation flowed effortlessly from one topic to the next and Ghent looked stunning in its nighttime glory.

At one point, the stranger who'd been sat next to me all night turned to us and said: "Koekoekstraat 78 or 77, in Melle?!"

It didn't take long for all three of us to place that sentence in context and serve her of a reply. I doubt there's anyone in Flanders who does not know what this phrase relates to. While most people would've thought nothing special about this occurrence, the incident made me feel slightly fuzzy warm.

Anyone who's lived abroad for an extended period of time, or anyone who's been involved in a relationship with a foreigner, undoubtedly remembers that instance in which you become acutely aware of the fact that there's a certain collective cultural memory you share with your compatriots, that is very hard to convey to foreigners. Also, no matter how much effort you put into trying to assimilate, you're always slightly behind on catching up with your host-country's own collective memory.

Try explaining "Koekoekstraat 70 in Melle" to a non-Belgian? Or try using the "Am I Bovvered?! No but am I bovvered?!" in a conversation with a non-Brit?

It's little quirky things like that which make me feel at home somewhere. When you know you're part of the cultural collective. And that one stupid insignificant sentence made me feel slightly silly fuzzy warm, about being back home.



"Am I bovvered?!?" - The Catherine Tate Show


"Koekoekstraat 70 in Melle?" - De Schalkse Ruiters

Anonimity Cloak Thwarted

Only two months in, and my decision to return to a life set in Ghent has had some fascinating consequences already. I was determined to enlarge my current social group here beyond its old established boundaries and like the true geek that I am, I enlisted the help of the wonderful medium of blogging for that quest. These last few weeks I've met some wonderful people both through blogging and some renewed efforts IRL. But last night, the reality of decloaking... of losing my blogging "anonimity", really hit home.

I was invited along to Spass and shortly after my arrival, someone asked whether I'd managed to unshrink my favorite sweater. It took me a moment to realise this question related to one of my recent blogposts. Much later on in the evening, someone else proclaimed they would start taking my writings with a pinch of salt from now on, because I had quite successfully disproven my statement that I rarely drink, by being so disgracefully trashed. *grin*

Which brings home a few rather painful realisations: (1) people pay attention, (2) if I distort the truth in the name of poetic freedom *cough*VANITY*cough* then I WILL be caught out and (3) I will have no more stories to tell IRL, because it's all been read on my blog.

On another note, I've observed a rather bizarre phenomenon. Three different random strangers I engaged in conversation at different points during the night, likened me to an L-word character somewhere mid-conversation. I found this immensely odd. "You know, you're so ***** from the L-word". Erm. No. I'm so me. It's fascinating how much this series seems to have infiltrated the mindset.

Anyway: D&TC and The Girlfriend did an excellent job last night with Spass. I look forward to the next effort.

Suicide Bunnies

I spent the entire day strolling around Ghent today, because I felt I deserved a day off after all the hard work that goes into being so very unemployed. I'm not suposed to hear back from either of the two jobs I interviewed for until late next week and there's really only so much faffing one can do before the mind starts to believe that realigning the coffee-cups in your cupboard is a highly valid achievement for the day.

I wasn't looking for anything in particular really, except that I sort of wanted to buy some "creative" tools. I intend to redecorate one of the rooms in the house and while I have a vague notion of where I want to go with it, the exact strategy of how to get there, has yet to come to me. As tends to happen when one wanders into an exciting shop without a purposefully designed shopping list, I came out with loads of stuff I've no clue how to use.

A quick peak in my bag tells me I have netted 4 cans of spraypaint (grey, orange, brown and blue), two artist's spatulas, 3 paintbrushes, 6 canvasses, 12 tubes of acrylic paint, a stanley knife and a bottle of white spirit. When the shopattendend asked me whether I needed spraycaps for wide or narrow angle, I got a little flustered. Because I have no clue what she was on about, I decided on a wide angle as I assume wide can be made narrow with a little effort?! *ahem*

Because I had arranged to help out my cousin in the evening and then to go out clubbing with a friend after, I decided not to go home but to take my freshly caught haul of books to Het Lepelblad, as it's one of the few places in town that will allow you to just sit there reading for hours over one cup of coffee. Unfortunately, the nightclubbing got cancelled so I decided to come home and spend my evening figuring out what exactly I am going to do with all the stuff I bought today. Ideas welcome.

In the meantime, I would like to leave you with a few pages of two highly entertaining books (The Bunny Suicides and Great Lies to Tell Small Kids) by Andy Riley. I bought the sequels today and while they are not as funny as the first two, they are still pretty damn good.

From "The Bunny Suicides":

From "Great Lies to Tell Small Kids":