25 July 2011
You Can't Go Home Again
Unless you're about to be homeless due to a much anticipated 9-month world trip and your parents agree to house you, your boyfriend, your fish, your cats and most of your stuff in their home for the next year. So after 9 years of life in Utrecht I am back in Almelo. Living with my parents. In Twente. With my family. Luckily we were able to put our furniture in storage. As far as moving is concerned, the hard part is over. As for the mental implications of what I've just done, we'll have to wait and see. And a humble thank you to Mar - I've never seen a girl carry so much stuff in one go down our steep stairs!
18 July 2011
On the Move
On Saturday we executed part I of our grand moving plan. First, we went to Utrecht's so-called recycle street and dumped a bunch of old stuff that we didn't want to keep. Then we packed all of our personal belongings into my dad's van, including our cats and our fish, drove to Almelo, and made my old bedroom and the attic/guest room our new home. This means that the house from which I am writing this blog is now an empty, quiet and depressing place to be. Combined with the fact that it's been raining non-stop all day and that it's very cold here, makes for one stupid day. I wasted it by watching the worst of the worst on TV and eating frozen pizzas. Bikram yoga has lost its charms on me as well. But then I remembered my new dress and the drink I made last week. Just add some Malibu to a tall glass of crushed mint, lime juice, ice and water and you have a quick little something. Back to packing...
15 July 2011
The BIG Move (Part I)
I remember an old episode of The Oprah Winfrey Show where the cast of Friends was on and Jennifer Aniston talked about the taping of the final episodes of the final season. She was beyond sentimental while she paid her respects to the last green salad of Tuesdays taping or something like that. I'm exactly the same with everything in my life that ends. I remember obsessively listening to the song Fields of Gold by Eva Cassidy right before leaving UCU for UCLA ("I swear that in the days still left / We will walk in fields of gold"). I have a sign on our fridge where I count down the days till the BIG move (we are now at 15). I am very aware of the fact that as of tomorrow, my life will never be the same again.
It hasn't been much fun to be in our apartment ever since we packed everything up and it has been stripped of anything that makes it homey. I feel like a woman who is going through a bad break-up, where first you feel sad about not having that man in your life anymore until one day you find yourself maddened at the though of him. That's where I'm at - I finally hate my apartment. The big deal about tomorrow, however, is that the cats will be moved to Almelo, which means that I will be all alone here for 2 weeks, or at least while Jochem is at work. And it's as if they know.
We have British shorthairs, and this breed is famous for more than their pretty looks: they don't like to be handled. Manchego has always been a freak of nature who actually loves to be handled, but Bicho is another story. He doesn't like to be touched. If we're lucky, he'll come into bed with us in the morning, right before we are supposed to get up. True, when he finally arrives he does sit on you, which makes it hard to breathe, but Manchego usually stays in bed with us all night. But yesterday Bicho came to bed when we went to bed - it was epic. And tonight, while I was watching TV home alone, he scrawled into my sweatshirt (!) and stayed for a while. Eek!
Maybe I am not seeing things straight and need to go to bed. I am awfully tired, quite hungry, and my back hurts. It seemed like something worth writing about when I thought of it... But anyway - time to rest. Big day tomorrow.
11 July 2011
To Do: Pack!
Yesterday Jochem and I packed up almost our entire apartment.
The furniture is of course still there. So are the things that we need on a daily basis, like our bed linnen, our toiletries, and all kitchen appliances (I'm waiting to pack those until the very last moment). But all of our other stuff is packed in boxes - books, magazines, clocks, paintings, picture frames, candles, DVDs, CDs, our old Nintendo. It was quite sad, although the cats love their new playground. Granted, it does make for some beautiful pictures.
The absolute worst thing about taking this 9-month trip is leaving our 'boys' behind. It's not just that I'll miss them, the way that I'll surely miss my family, friends, Gouda cheese and sit-down toilets, but what makes it worse is that I feel responsible for them. These are my pets, they are my responsibilty, and I am leaving them behind. Of course I am lucky enough to leave them in the capable hands of my parents, who are great cat lovers, have had cats for years, and who have a beautiful home - a home that used to be Bicho's home and where both he and Manchego have stayed for many a time when we were traveling. But we're still abandoning them and we can't explain to them where we're going or when we'll be back or why we're even leaving in the first place. One day we'll be gone and then 9 months later we'll be back. Perhaps the fact that my all-time favorite cat, Monti, died a couple of weeks before I was due to come back from UCLA, scarred me a little bit in this regard. Overall, it just really sucks.
Luckily I have a great boyfriend who took a day off to spend some time with us at home. We'll be moving our boxes to Almelo on Saturday and we're bringing the cats with us, so we won't have much time left to just be here with the four of us (Pesto usually keeps to his bowl in the study). Some of my favorite memories stem from lazy Sundays spent in our pajamas, watching TV, eating eggs, drinking coffee, with the cats on our lap. You may find me sentimental, but that's just the way that I feel about these things.
One thing that always cheers me up is food. I have so many wonderful cookbooks that I usually try to make something new every single day. The only exceptions to this rule are when I am too lazy to think of a new recipe or when I suddenly have a craving for something that I know will be good, like tofu tandoori, a dish that comes from a package and is not very good at all, but which I still like because of its nostalgia and the abundance of creme fraiche. To cut to the chase: it never happens that I like something so much that I'll end up making it again and again. But behold the two exceptions in the picture below: one is a dish called golden spaghetti (Source: The Silver Spoon: Pasta), a simple pasta with melted butter, cream and saffron, while the other is a dish comprised of oven-roasted tomatoes (Source: The Naked Chef by Jamie Oliver) coated with garlic, thyme, basil, dried oregano, dried chili, sea salt, black pepper and olive oil. I have had these two dishes at least a dozen times in the last couple of weeks - they're that good. And look at the picture below - see how our beautiful pasta plate balances on our windowsill overlooking the chaos that is the backyard of our neighborhood - isn't it magical?
The furniture is of course still there. So are the things that we need on a daily basis, like our bed linnen, our toiletries, and all kitchen appliances (I'm waiting to pack those until the very last moment). But all of our other stuff is packed in boxes - books, magazines, clocks, paintings, picture frames, candles, DVDs, CDs, our old Nintendo. It was quite sad, although the cats love their new playground. Granted, it does make for some beautiful pictures.
The absolute worst thing about taking this 9-month trip is leaving our 'boys' behind. It's not just that I'll miss them, the way that I'll surely miss my family, friends, Gouda cheese and sit-down toilets, but what makes it worse is that I feel responsible for them. These are my pets, they are my responsibilty, and I am leaving them behind. Of course I am lucky enough to leave them in the capable hands of my parents, who are great cat lovers, have had cats for years, and who have a beautiful home - a home that used to be Bicho's home and where both he and Manchego have stayed for many a time when we were traveling. But we're still abandoning them and we can't explain to them where we're going or when we'll be back or why we're even leaving in the first place. One day we'll be gone and then 9 months later we'll be back. Perhaps the fact that my all-time favorite cat, Monti, died a couple of weeks before I was due to come back from UCLA, scarred me a little bit in this regard. Overall, it just really sucks.
Luckily I have a great boyfriend who took a day off to spend some time with us at home. We'll be moving our boxes to Almelo on Saturday and we're bringing the cats with us, so we won't have much time left to just be here with the four of us (Pesto usually keeps to his bowl in the study). Some of my favorite memories stem from lazy Sundays spent in our pajamas, watching TV, eating eggs, drinking coffee, with the cats on our lap. You may find me sentimental, but that's just the way that I feel about these things.
One thing that always cheers me up is food. I have so many wonderful cookbooks that I usually try to make something new every single day. The only exceptions to this rule are when I am too lazy to think of a new recipe or when I suddenly have a craving for something that I know will be good, like tofu tandoori, a dish that comes from a package and is not very good at all, but which I still like because of its nostalgia and the abundance of creme fraiche. To cut to the chase: it never happens that I like something so much that I'll end up making it again and again. But behold the two exceptions in the picture below: one is a dish called golden spaghetti (Source: The Silver Spoon: Pasta), a simple pasta with melted butter, cream and saffron, while the other is a dish comprised of oven-roasted tomatoes (Source: The Naked Chef by Jamie Oliver) coated with garlic, thyme, basil, dried oregano, dried chili, sea salt, black pepper and olive oil. I have had these two dishes at least a dozen times in the last couple of weeks - they're that good. And look at the picture below - see how our beautiful pasta plate balances on our windowsill overlooking the chaos that is the backyard of our neighborhood - isn't it magical?
08 July 2011
And now for some fun!
In a world where innocent animals are shipped in unbearable conditions for weeks on end before being slaughtered in the most horrific way in name of 'religion,' it is nice to find an animal video online that does not end in cruelty. I must be the last person on earth to see this video on YouTube, but a colleague showed it to me a couple of weeks ago and since then I must've seen it again at least a dozen times. Just go to YouTube, type in 'Christian the lion' and choose the Whitney Houston version for added dramatic effect.
On YouTube you can also find a 50-minute documentary on the true story of Christian. Just type in 'A Lion Named Christian.'
In other news I've been pretty busy. I try to do bikram yoga as often as possible but it's been killing me this week so I'm taking some time off today and during the weekend. Other than that it's been nothing but planning our world trip and packing up our apartment. It is now completely devoid of any picture frames or anything else that makes it a real home. In a minute I'm going to get started on packing our books.
And as of next Tuesday I will have been a vegetarian (or lacto ovo vegeterian according to my Living Vegetarian for Dummies book) for 4 weeks. The only glitch thus far is the fact that I am having some trouble adjusting to soy milk. I am determined to become a vegan-esque vegetarian and that means cutting down on cow's milk (which, FIY, is NOT good for you at all). The soy milk I had at Starbucks was nice, and the rice milk I have been using on my cereal is also fine (although it looks like soapy water), but the soy milk definitely takes some getting used to. But my book says that texture and taste differ immensely among different brands, so I plan to keep looking until I find the right one. Any tips on soy milk brands that taste as much as cow's milk as possible are very welcome! I want to like it so much...
And, finally, my parents came to visit us on Sunday and they spent the night for the first time ever. We talked, watched Sex and the City, went shopping downtown and cooked. I cooked many things, but I liked this particular dish especially. It is a roasted broccoli hummus. Check out the recipe here.
Source: Not Without Salt
Happy Weekend!
On YouTube you can also find a 50-minute documentary on the true story of Christian. Just type in 'A Lion Named Christian.'
In other news I've been pretty busy. I try to do bikram yoga as often as possible but it's been killing me this week so I'm taking some time off today and during the weekend. Other than that it's been nothing but planning our world trip and packing up our apartment. It is now completely devoid of any picture frames or anything else that makes it a real home. In a minute I'm going to get started on packing our books.
And as of next Tuesday I will have been a vegetarian (or lacto ovo vegeterian according to my Living Vegetarian for Dummies book) for 4 weeks. The only glitch thus far is the fact that I am having some trouble adjusting to soy milk. I am determined to become a vegan-esque vegetarian and that means cutting down on cow's milk (which, FIY, is NOT good for you at all). The soy milk I had at Starbucks was nice, and the rice milk I have been using on my cereal is also fine (although it looks like soapy water), but the soy milk definitely takes some getting used to. But my book says that texture and taste differ immensely among different brands, so I plan to keep looking until I find the right one. Any tips on soy milk brands that taste as much as cow's milk as possible are very welcome! I want to like it so much...
And, finally, my parents came to visit us on Sunday and they spent the night for the first time ever. We talked, watched Sex and the City, went shopping downtown and cooked. I cooked many things, but I liked this particular dish especially. It is a roasted broccoli hummus. Check out the recipe here.
Source: Not Without Salt
Happy Weekend!
05 July 2011
i ♥ utrecht, part iii (last entry)
When I came up with the idea for this i ♥ utrecht series, I thought that I would have lots of things to write about. But I don't. And I guess that's a good thing - it would be sad to have to leave a place that I'm not ready to leave, but I am ready and thus have very little to say in terms of things that I'll miss. Yes, I have lived happily in this apartment, but at this point I am beyond ready to leave it behind and let it get on with its next phase. Yes, I love having a park right around the corner, but every town has one, some probably better than the Griftpark. I try to see this not as a failure (I did write 365 blogs about food, after all, so I'm sure it's not a matter of discipline) but as a sign that I am ready for what's next and that's always a good thing.
The last thing that I must write about when it comes to Utrecht is the sense of having everything you need close by. This may seem unimportant to you but is actually very important to my happiness. I don't go out very often so things like the theater, museums and festivals are usually lost on me, but it's wonderful to have a cinema, restaurant, café and bar on every corner. Plus: I detest supermarkerts so I buy my fruit and vegetables across the street, my bread around the corner, my cheese down the street, my cat food a couple of blocks away, and any other cravings in the endless little shops and boutiques in the neighborhood. I go downtown less and less and spend more time in Wittevrouwen, which is nice.
However, since I probably won't end up in Almelo after all and am increasingly drawn to Amersfoort, Utrecht's hip, cool, frat boy-free little brother, I'll probably have all of that and more, while being able to afford more living space and being closer to my family and friends. I can't wait.
The last thing that I must write about when it comes to Utrecht is the sense of having everything you need close by. This may seem unimportant to you but is actually very important to my happiness. I don't go out very often so things like the theater, museums and festivals are usually lost on me, but it's wonderful to have a cinema, restaurant, café and bar on every corner. Plus: I detest supermarkerts so I buy my fruit and vegetables across the street, my bread around the corner, my cheese down the street, my cat food a couple of blocks away, and any other cravings in the endless little shops and boutiques in the neighborhood. I go downtown less and less and spend more time in Wittevrouwen, which is nice.
However, since I probably won't end up in Almelo after all and am increasingly drawn to Amersfoort, Utrecht's hip, cool, frat boy-free little brother, I'll probably have all of that and more, while being able to afford more living space and being closer to my family and friends. I can't wait.
01 July 2011
Free as a Bird
10 months. 45 weeks. 312 days. That's how long I worked as an Assistant Office Manager at the Studiekring, where I had already been tutoring and giving exam training for 2 years. My colleagues prepared a special lunch (including a cucumber salad for the new vegetarian me) and gave me a vegetarian cookbook and 3 bags of candy as a goodbye gift (apparently, my colleagues confuse me with someone who is a sweet tooth because I have a jar with candy on my desk. The fact that it has been the same candy for 9 months and that it has been filled with raisins instead since June must have escaped them. Nevertheless I welcome the gift, of course). As I was packing my things last night, I felt a tremendous weight of sadness, but today I am unemployed and suddenly have an abundance of free time to spend as I wish. So this morning I took an early Bikram Yoga class and then made the most amazing organic, vegetarian lunch (yes, that's still happening - get used to it, folks!). I toasted some bread in butter, added goat cheese, parsley, radish, Italian lettuce and roasted tomatoes from the oven. Seriously, who needs such a distraction like a dead animal on your plate when your lunch is as beautiful as this (I will try to be less judgemental about this whole vegetarian thing, I promise).
Well, I'm off. I'm going downtown to do some shopping and then we're off to Veghel for a birthday party. That whole moving out/world trip thing will just have to wait till Monday.
Well, I'm off. I'm going downtown to do some shopping and then we're off to Veghel for a birthday party. That whole moving out/world trip thing will just have to wait till Monday.
19 June 2011
To be or not to be (a vegetarian), that is the question...
I had already read about the outrage over the transport of live cattle from Australia to Indonesia, but it wasn't until I heard a sound fragment (I knew that I wouldn't be able to handle the actual imaging), that it suddenly hit me: I want to be a vegetarian. The sounds of the struggling cow in such intense agony made me sick to my stomach and broke my heart - I cried like a little child for 30 minutes with Jochem on the phone and spent the rest of the day like a zombie at work and the evening in bed trying to blur the experience from my head by watching both Sex and the City movies in a row.
I come from a family with a Dutch father and a Spanish mother, so as a child I ate a lot of meat and fish and thought that it was the most normal thing in the world. As a teenager I heard about people who were vegetarians, but I knew that I liked it too much to stop. Only during my college years did vegetarianism started to seem like a real option for me. I started eating less and less meat and fish and I even tried being a vegetarian full-time for 2 months during the summer of 2009, including a 2-week holiday in Spain, which was NOT easy (the Spanish 'don't do' vegetarianism, it seems).
Over the last couple of years, I stopped eating meat and fish during the week and reserved it for the weekends or special occasions. I only bought organic and free-range products. When trying to imagine giving it up completely, though, it seemed like such a difficult choice, especially since Jochem has no intention to go there with me. I'd often wish that I had the strength to become a vegetarian and would read about these people who read something or saw something or heard something and decided right then and there never to eat animals again. I guess that hearing that sound fragment was my moment and I quit eating animals cold turkey (no pun intended).
Now, however (only 6 days in!), I'm having such a hard time imagining the realities of that choice. I know that there are lots of people who eat vegetarian most of the time but who sometimes eat meat and fish and make sure that it's the organic and free-range kind when they do. These people are called 'flextarians,' which really doesn't sound as cool as being a vegetarian. I'm probably being silly, but when I say that I am a vegetarian I feel so proud to be standing for something that I believe in (i.e. eating animals = murder) and I have such a bleak black and white view of the world that not going all the way in this seems like the lowest form of cowardice and weakness, especially considering the fact that I completely fell apart on Tuesday. It's all or nothing for me, it seems.
For me the most difficult part of becoming a vegetarian would be to combine it with my travels. I love food and I love trying new things - can you imagine going to Argentine and NOT having steak? I have a hard time picturing it... It feels so limiting and I hate that feeling. But then I remember that one of my favorite travel icons, Dutch traveler Floortje Dessing, traveled the world as a vegetarian and I feel silly again.
My friend Bianca said that I shouldn't deny myself certain kinds of food and that I should just try to be even more conscious of what I eat (she actually saw the footage and threw up afterwards, but is clearly not as affected by it as I am). Jochem suggested that I stop trying to figure everything out now and instead just take every day as it comes. For example, I could decide to only cook vegetarian food myself and not have any meat or fish in the house (cat food excluded) and try to eat vegetarian as often as possible. But when we have another dinner date I will not ask my friends to cook vegetarian for me and when in Argentina/Turkey/Scotland I will allow myself one plate of organic, free-range steak/köfte/haggis. Although this idea appeals to me, it also makes me feel like a fake.
What do YOU think?
I come from a family with a Dutch father and a Spanish mother, so as a child I ate a lot of meat and fish and thought that it was the most normal thing in the world. As a teenager I heard about people who were vegetarians, but I knew that I liked it too much to stop. Only during my college years did vegetarianism started to seem like a real option for me. I started eating less and less meat and fish and I even tried being a vegetarian full-time for 2 months during the summer of 2009, including a 2-week holiday in Spain, which was NOT easy (the Spanish 'don't do' vegetarianism, it seems).
Over the last couple of years, I stopped eating meat and fish during the week and reserved it for the weekends or special occasions. I only bought organic and free-range products. When trying to imagine giving it up completely, though, it seemed like such a difficult choice, especially since Jochem has no intention to go there with me. I'd often wish that I had the strength to become a vegetarian and would read about these people who read something or saw something or heard something and decided right then and there never to eat animals again. I guess that hearing that sound fragment was my moment and I quit eating animals cold turkey (no pun intended).
Now, however (only 6 days in!), I'm having such a hard time imagining the realities of that choice. I know that there are lots of people who eat vegetarian most of the time but who sometimes eat meat and fish and make sure that it's the organic and free-range kind when they do. These people are called 'flextarians,' which really doesn't sound as cool as being a vegetarian. I'm probably being silly, but when I say that I am a vegetarian I feel so proud to be standing for something that I believe in (i.e. eating animals = murder) and I have such a bleak black and white view of the world that not going all the way in this seems like the lowest form of cowardice and weakness, especially considering the fact that I completely fell apart on Tuesday. It's all or nothing for me, it seems.
For me the most difficult part of becoming a vegetarian would be to combine it with my travels. I love food and I love trying new things - can you imagine going to Argentine and NOT having steak? I have a hard time picturing it... It feels so limiting and I hate that feeling. But then I remember that one of my favorite travel icons, Dutch traveler Floortje Dessing, traveled the world as a vegetarian and I feel silly again.
My friend Bianca said that I shouldn't deny myself certain kinds of food and that I should just try to be even more conscious of what I eat (she actually saw the footage and threw up afterwards, but is clearly not as affected by it as I am). Jochem suggested that I stop trying to figure everything out now and instead just take every day as it comes. For example, I could decide to only cook vegetarian food myself and not have any meat or fish in the house (cat food excluded) and try to eat vegetarian as often as possible. But when we have another dinner date I will not ask my friends to cook vegetarian for me and when in Argentina/Turkey/Scotland I will allow myself one plate of organic, free-range steak/köfte/haggis. Although this idea appeals to me, it also makes me feel like a fake.
What do YOU think?
10 June 2011
What Happens in Brussels...
Last weekend I took a train to visit my friend Anna. Anna and I have such a fascinating friendship. When I first met her, I thought she was Russian (a fact which, I'm sure, she's never quite forgiven me). We only became friends after the Christmas break when we bonded over our relationships that, alas - like many others, didn't make it long past the campus gate. Over the years we've shared many more heartbreak, bottles of wine, Californian adventures, American road trips, wet French campsites and countless cups of herbal tea (to name but a few). Sometimes we fight - usually about money or my obsessive compulsive habits and inability to be flexible (or at least not flexible enough, quickly enough). But no matter what, that girl has always been there for me. It's quite surreal looking back - I don't know how she didn't get sick of me (I was sick of me), but she's always stayed with her humor, kindness, acceptance, loyalty and butt-kicking (when needed).
preparing for one of UCU's infamous parties on campus (fall 2003)
She moved to Brussels 2 years ago, which means that I don't see her as often as I'd like, but I'm glad that I'm able to catch a train and see her in 3 hours when the timing is right (as opposed to this other friend who lives all the way in northern California - seeing her requires a lot more planning). Before she moved, we didn't live in the same city either, but it was easier to meet up. And before that, we shared a unit on campus - rooms across from each other. We lived in Voltaire, the building where all the Humanities classes were given. We were Humanities majors (and proud of it!) and thought we were so cool for living there. Just the possibility of going to class in our pajamas appealed to us (though both of us were way too vain to ever did anything like that).
relaxing in the sun at the park near Anna's apartment in Brussels (spring 2009)
So, when I do visit Anna in Brussels, I always have so much fun! Her apartment is like this beautiful place that houses a treasure of cute little artsy things. There are always piles of magazines on the living room floor, clippings on the walls and leftover snacks in the bookcases. I actually love the organized chaos, though I'm pretty sure she'd never believe me. So when in Brussels, we hardly ever do touristy stuff (in fact, the first time I finally saw some of Brussels' famous sites was when Danielle came over from the US and was kind enough to play tourist with me). Instead, it's like I live there too and we spend the weekend doing things like getting our ears pierced and taking bikram yoga classes.
Anna and I got a tattoo together almost 7 years ago in Melrose, Los Angeles. It was at the end of our studies abroad and we wanted to do it together. We'd been thinking about getting a tattoo for quite some time and after Danielle did her research into the best tattoo shops in LA and we somehow managed to get to Melrose on LA's insane bus system, we got one. I was beyond nervous and would have gladly taken a vodka shot, had it not been for the particular dangerous blood-thinning quality of alcohol. So I went first, and did okay. Anna went second, and went through quite some pain. So when we got our ears pierced, I told her she could go first. She was taken to a little room up some winding stairs where she proceeded to scream her lungs out. Just to scare me. It was mean - my hands were already shaking with fear. But it went alright and we are now both tattoo and piercing buddies. God, we're so bad-ass.
the new piercing
On Sunday morning we got up early to take a bikram yoga class. If you know anything about me and Anna, this would surprise you. Anna is notoriously known for being grumpy in the morning (and if she hasn't had her coffee yet: beware!) and the thought of doing 26 yoga poses in 105-degree heat for 90 minutes always sounded like hell to me. But Anna was very persuasive and I'm always in for trying new things at least once. Turns out bikram yoga is kind of awesome. Since I don't have to work at all in July, I plan to get a 1-month membership so I can go every day. Funny how things go.
If you need any more inspiration to try bikram yoga at least once (if my sudden conversion isn't enough) then watch this video and read this article. I love how Jeanne Heaton describes the practice:
"The postures are accessible to anyone, in any shape, but challenging for everyone, in any shape. The front mirrors force you to face the truth and the reality of your life."
So many of my friends think that yoga is a competitive sport, while one of the first things I learned about yoga is that it is all about your own personal growth and that it is the effort that you put into the pose, and not the actual pose itself, that counts. Everyone can do yoga. Like Jeanne Heaton says: "Just get in the room."
preparing for one of UCU's infamous parties on campus (fall 2003)
She moved to Brussels 2 years ago, which means that I don't see her as often as I'd like, but I'm glad that I'm able to catch a train and see her in 3 hours when the timing is right (as opposed to this other friend who lives all the way in northern California - seeing her requires a lot more planning). Before she moved, we didn't live in the same city either, but it was easier to meet up. And before that, we shared a unit on campus - rooms across from each other. We lived in Voltaire, the building where all the Humanities classes were given. We were Humanities majors (and proud of it!) and thought we were so cool for living there. Just the possibility of going to class in our pajamas appealed to us (though both of us were way too vain to ever did anything like that).
relaxing in the sun at the park near Anna's apartment in Brussels (spring 2009)
So, when I do visit Anna in Brussels, I always have so much fun! Her apartment is like this beautiful place that houses a treasure of cute little artsy things. There are always piles of magazines on the living room floor, clippings on the walls and leftover snacks in the bookcases. I actually love the organized chaos, though I'm pretty sure she'd never believe me. So when in Brussels, we hardly ever do touristy stuff (in fact, the first time I finally saw some of Brussels' famous sites was when Danielle came over from the US and was kind enough to play tourist with me). Instead, it's like I live there too and we spend the weekend doing things like getting our ears pierced and taking bikram yoga classes.
Anna and I got a tattoo together almost 7 years ago in Melrose, Los Angeles. It was at the end of our studies abroad and we wanted to do it together. We'd been thinking about getting a tattoo for quite some time and after Danielle did her research into the best tattoo shops in LA and we somehow managed to get to Melrose on LA's insane bus system, we got one. I was beyond nervous and would have gladly taken a vodka shot, had it not been for the particular dangerous blood-thinning quality of alcohol. So I went first, and did okay. Anna went second, and went through quite some pain. So when we got our ears pierced, I told her she could go first. She was taken to a little room up some winding stairs where she proceeded to scream her lungs out. Just to scare me. It was mean - my hands were already shaking with fear. But it went alright and we are now both tattoo and piercing buddies. God, we're so bad-ass.
the new piercing
On Sunday morning we got up early to take a bikram yoga class. If you know anything about me and Anna, this would surprise you. Anna is notoriously known for being grumpy in the morning (and if she hasn't had her coffee yet: beware!) and the thought of doing 26 yoga poses in 105-degree heat for 90 minutes always sounded like hell to me. But Anna was very persuasive and I'm always in for trying new things at least once. Turns out bikram yoga is kind of awesome. Since I don't have to work at all in July, I plan to get a 1-month membership so I can go every day. Funny how things go.
If you need any more inspiration to try bikram yoga at least once (if my sudden conversion isn't enough) then watch this video and read this article. I love how Jeanne Heaton describes the practice:
"The postures are accessible to anyone, in any shape, but challenging for everyone, in any shape. The front mirrors force you to face the truth and the reality of your life."
So many of my friends think that yoga is a competitive sport, while one of the first things I learned about yoga is that it is all about your own personal growth and that it is the effort that you put into the pose, and not the actual pose itself, that counts. Everyone can do yoga. Like Jeanne Heaton says: "Just get in the room."
29 May 2011
Asparagus x 2
When I read a blog about asparagus on Seven Spoons, I immediately thought to myself: I should be eating more asparagus! Although I pride myself in eating seasonally, sometimes I still forget that I should make the most of these beautiful ingredients while they are actually still in season. I made a catastrophic error when I discovered in winter that the next time pumpkin will be back in season, I'll be in bloody South East Asia, probably just trying to survive monsoon season. Determined not to make the same mistake twice, I have already made excellent use of this Spring's rhubarb - last week alone I prepared one spicy pork dish, one bellini and one iced tea, all with fresh rhubarb. This week I was so inspired by Seven Spoons' blog on asparagus that I decided to make its asparagus with hard-boiled egg vinaigrette, which we served with some steak. But, since we also came across some asparagus tips on the market while we were looking for new swimming trunks and flip-flops for Jochem to use during our world trip, I decided to also prepare those with some olive oil, lemon juice and Parmesan cheese, courtsey of Jamie Oliver.
Source: Jamie at Home by Jamie Oliver
Source: Seven Spoons
PS: We also had these amazing blueberry pancakes for lunch!
Source: Happy Days with the Naked Chef by Jamie Oliver
Source: Jamie at Home by Jamie Oliver
Source: Seven Spoons
PS: We also had these amazing blueberry pancakes for lunch!
Source: Happy Days with the Naked Chef by Jamie Oliver
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