K.P. Webster's Blog, page 7

Feedback Friday :: Ripeness to the Core

work completed :: 12 copywriting jobs / 5 hours of teaching

approximate number of hours spent learning Dutch :: 4

approximate number of hours spent on new copywriting company :: 7

physical gym visits :: 2

metaphysical gym visits :: 14

study sessions of various hues (language aside ) :: 4

biscuits eaten :: one dreads to think

plants kept alive :: 5

silverfish sightings :: 6

mouse sightings :: 0

approximate number of hours spent watching film of Hillary Clinton :: 0.5

approximate number of hours spent watching film of Donald Trump :: 7

money owed to Donald Trump :: none

routine adhesion :: 56%. I’m back though. I’m making a concerted effort to get stuff done again. I even drew up a proper routine on my Magic Erasable Whiteboard.

week 42/52 overall rating :: 8. There is some frustration, but there is mostly joy. I need a little more fun in my life.

…

So yes, on Sunday night I drew up my first routine. This is it on the wall of my new office (bedroom), just before I filled it in…

I’m going to fill it in afresh every Sunday evening. It’s already proven very effective in motivating me and I have lots of ideas for organising myself better, and pushing myself more in the areas I need to be pushed. Plus every Sunday before I rub it off, I can take a photograph of my week – as timetabled and annotated on my wall – which I can then file away until such a time as it is required for my memoirs, which will be in great demand. Seriously. If Donald Trump has taught me anything, it’s to be massively unrealistic as often and as vocally as possible. And you’ll see. Over the next couple of years, this website is going to explode. It’s going to be huge!

Anyway, yes, I managed to get a lot done this week.

The copywriting business I’m in the process of setting up now has a name. Once again, I have Donald Trump to thank. It’s called The Best Words Online. It’ll be an experiment with making money on entirely my own terms. We’ll see how it goes, but I feel hopeful.

At the moment I’m busy trying out different themes and getting an idea of what the site will be, and what it won’t be (see below). All it really needs though, is to be functional. (And fun.) And I want to have made some pitches on the back of it by the end of the month.

Go!

What else? Not much to be honest. I’ve been organising myself.

I’ve got a lot of work to do and I’ve just got to get on with it.

I’ve also got a lesson starting in a moment.

What else?

I bought a clock today. Because time is of the essence. And on the way to buy the clock, I took the photo at the top of the page. Autumnal…

Oh, and I spent at least five hours making this on Sunday…

The reason being I need to beef up my video skills for new site. Exciting times. It’s gonna be huge.

Anyway, how are you? You look fucking great actually, if you don’t mind me saying. You look so shiny. I don’t know what you’re doing, but don’t stop.

Have a glorious weekend. You deserve it.

X

 

Filed under: FEEDBACK, REAL LIFE, Uncategorized Tagged: copywriting, Donald Trump, politics, routine, video, work

Feedback Friday :: Dark

work completed :: 4 copywriting jobs / 3 hours of teaching. Slow week.

hours of Dutch learning :: 3. (Drie.)

physical gym visits :: 1

metaphysical gym visits :: 14

routine adhesion :: 7.5%

days spent in new home :: 29

rooms painted :: 1

things brought in from the street :: 3

plants kept alive :: 4

money owed to Donald Trump :: none

week 41/52 overall rating :: 9.1

…

This little girl – who looks to me very like a Femke – was left out by the bins on Wednesday.

I feel bad for her.

You can’t help wonder what happened to her. After the picture was painted. 

The painting is old, so the girl herself is probably a grown woman, at least middle-aged by now. She may be dead. Or she may have placed her portrait in the street herself, having finally grown tired of it after 40 years.

Who knows? I don’t. But I’d like to.

This is the first painting I’ve seen out by the bins. But I’ve seen a lot of other stuff.

I was telling a visiting London friend about the fact that Amsterdammers leave all manner of stuff out on the streets – furniture primarily, and other household stuff too (plus books) – and he said, ‘Yeah, just like South London’ and I wanted to shout NO! Right in his face.

It is not just like South London. It is like nowhere I have seen anywhere ever before.

On every street there are bin/recycling areas, and every day, all over the city, people put stuff they don’t want out by the bins. And much of it is broken or old, bound for destruction or landfill, but much of it can be restored easily or is just a little shabby but perfectly serviceable. Most of it is claimed by others and presumably repurposed.

Femke was claimed. But not by me. However, I did find and bring home three things this week: a piece of wood to be used as a desk, an IKEA table that needed a little fix and a wooden magazine rack that I may use to keep plants in but haven’t decided yet.

Also, it was whilst out looking for a discarded desktop that I stumbled upon Toon, a shop full of beautiful things. From outside on the street, Toon looked like a very classy place indeed. Chic and stylish and snazzy. In all honesty, my first thought was that somehow, it wasn’t for the likes of me. I instinctively imagined an assistant looking down her nose at me. Sneering at me. We don’t want your sort in here etched into her scowl. Why the fuck I thought any of that I don’t know.

Actually I do. It is, I think, due to the remnants of a lifetime of barely concealed bitterness, calcified in shoulder-chips that I’ve always kind of denied. Anyway, I shook it all off and went inside for a mooch.

It was a beautiful shop, full of ornaments and curios and arty pieces that I can not in good faith afford at this moment in time but at which, nonetheless, I delighted in gazing. There were also more than enough photographs and art on the walls for the place to pass as a gallery as well as a shop.

I thought it was beautiful, so before I left, I approached the woman behind the till. I said, ‘I’m not going to buy anything today.’

She said, ‘That’s fine.’

‘But I just wanted to say that it’s a very beautiful place that you have here.’

She was pleased. She thanked me and said that it was always really lovely when people bothered to say such things. I was very happy that I had made the effort. Then she told me that there was an exhibition in the basement if I was interested. It was by a photographer who had a few photographs upstairs too. As it happens, I’d been admiring them. The photographer was Cristel Mitchell.

The woman gestured behind the till, at the door that led to the basement. Cellar door. A row of tiny Trump-sized hand-torches hung from a row of hooks at the top of the door. I took down one of the torches, and turned the handle.

Forty-five minutes later, I emerged, having become embroiled in a documentary about transgender performance artist Rose Wood, entitled, I have since found out, Miss Rose Wood. ‘You took your time,’ said the lady of the shop, in a not at all accusatory tone.

I told her I’d become involved. Not just the documentary, but the whole place. The exhibition. The space. Like a partially illuminated cave full of beautiful, bizarre and wholly fascinating things. I’d only been looking for a bit of wood to rest on whilst writing, but I’d found so much more.

I introduced myself to the lady, whose name was Marina. She told me that the exhibition had received favourable reviews in the press. I told her it had received a favourable review from me also. She said, ‘There is another exhibition. If you follow the dotted line….’

I looked at the floor. Sure enough, a line of painted white dashes led away from the till, across the store floor and out of sight. I could think of no reason whatsoever not to follow it.

The line led me to another cellar door on the other side of the shop. Down the stairs was another exhibition, also by Christel Mitchell.

Entitled Asylum, this exhibition features images from a medieval mental home in the mountains of Nepal. It is disturbing and sad, but there is also dignity and nobility. I felt better for having seen it.

…

On Wednesday morning, I met a woman called Fleur in a local plant shop. I told her I’d just moved into the area and she told me it was very dangerous. I laughed because I thought she was being funny. ‘I understand it used to be very dangerous,’ I said, for I had been told.

‘No, now,’ she said. ‘People get shot.’

‘I understand people used to get shot,’ I said.

Which was when she told me about the person who was shot and killed on Friday night. More shocking still, they were killed right outside of Toon, my new favourite shop-cum-gallery, a matter of hours before I stumbled into the place.

I was shocked. I am shocked.

Maybe it’s my rose-tinted spectacles again, or maybe it’s the fact that I lived in the heart of Toxteth in 1988 and nothing will ever look bad after that, but this area seems perfectly safe and salubrious to me. It’s packed full of immigrants (like myself and decidedly swarthier), which I know would put a lot of people off (a lot of racist people), but for me, it’s proper suburban.

On Wednesday evening I left the house just before 10 on an emergency biscuit-run and my bike, which had been in the last trap of the bike stand in front of my house, was on the ground, on the road in fact, all vulnerable and panting like an old man in a stampede. Someone must have knocked it out of its trap whilst manoeuvring their own bike next to it, but rather than pick it up and replace it, they just watched it fall to the ground, its basket skittering across the concrete like a stray eyeglass, and thought, ‘Fuck it.’

I was saddened. This is the first time in the four-and-a-half months I’ve been here that I’ve seen such contemptuous carelessness.

Then there was the shooting.

And let’s not forget little Famke…

…so cruelly, callously abandoned.

It seems it’s not just the days that are growing darker.

But you know what?

It changes nothing. My spectacles were never so rose-tinted that I imagined people never did bad things in Amsterdam. I know that shit can flare up anytime, and anywhere. It doesn’t change anything. I still love it here like I’ve never loved it anywhere before. And I can’t see anything changing that. Not even winter. Not even murder. 

CHORES.

LAST WEEK’S CHORES WERE COMPLETED. WELL DONE, ME. NOW FOR THIS WEEK’S…

BY THIS TIME NEXT WEEK I WILL HAVE:

* SET UP A COPYWRITING BUSINESS

That’s all actually. If I’ve done that, I will be cockahoop.

As for you, have a fantastic week.

Make it so.

x

 

Filed under: FEEDBACK, REAL LIFE Tagged: Amsterdam, art, Christel Mitchell, murder, photography, Rose Wood, Toon

Feedback Friday :: Ode to Joy

work completed :: 7 copywriting jobs / 5 hours of teaching

hours of Dutch learning :: 0. I did, however, take possession of a Dutch language text book and a few children’s books. So it’s only a matter of time. And effort. As always.

physical exercise :: 1 gym visit

metaphysical exercise :: 14 metaphysical gym visits

cleansing ceremonies :: 1

routine adhesion :: 10%

money owed to Donald Trump :: none

days spent in new home :: 22

rooms painted :: 2

dinners hosted :: 1

plants received :: 3

week 40/52 overall rating :: 9

…

Here I am. I’ve been busy. Since last we spoke, I have:

* spent a week in England spreading nothing but overwhelming joy

* hosted a friend here for a week, dispersing unto him wisdom and wicked great warmth

* started practising humility (not that I need to practise – I’m naturally good at it. I have all the best humility.)

* moved into a flat that I really love

* accepted my fate in Amsterdam as an illegal immigrant (for now at least, and not because I want to be, because I don’t – but fuck it: it is what it is and I reckon I’d be a fool not to embrace it – but let’s not mention it again)

* committed myself to a religious faith

* been poisoned multiple times by giant waxy monkey frog venom

* smeared my face with haemorrhoid cream

* begun (in semi-earnest) the embuffening process

Alas, my October routine has been stymied by the simple physical fact of how long it takes to decorate a flat. It took longer than anticipated to fill and paint the living room and spare bedroom – or the West Wing, as it kind of is – and I have allowed this to put the brakes on my various campaigns, reasoning that everything has to be right before the New Regime can be properly launched. It’s a classic excuse, of course, and I gravitated into it easily, instinctively and ultimately rather poignantly.

Ergo, plans for the copywriting company I have determined to set up and begin earning from this month will have to wait. As will plans for the refurbed website I hope to launch on Wednesday 14th December.

But the full-flat semi-renovation continues apace, and everything will be very right very soon.

I’ll let you know.

Now. On Wednesday afternoon I wrote this for you but never got round to posting it. Or indeed finishing it. Anyway, here it is here:

I’m just back from cycling home, across town, east to west.

It was one of the finest cycle journeys I’ve ever had, and not because it was new to me – I do it, or something very close to it, very regularly. But today was special.

Before I go any further, here’s a thing you should know, if you didn’t already, which you probably didn’t: I’ve started practising Nichiren Buddhism again. This time in full earnest. Which is to say, with ritualistic rigour.

I’ll talk more about it in the future, for sure, because it’s fascinating and hugely important to me, but for now let me just say that the combination of moving to a new city, finding somewhere outrageously pleasant to live and rediscovering the intense joy of ritualised positivity has left me feeling ludicrously cockahoop.

Having met a few more Buddhists last night and having decided to get more seriously involved, today has felt incredibly … I don’t know, ‘right’ is probably the best word. I chanted for an hour this morning at a friend’s house. I’ve been doing this most days for the past few weeks, but this morning it felt particularly right. I felt like I’d made progress. My understanding of what I’m doing and how it works was greater. Consequently, my connection to everything felt stronger. I chimed.

So. Cycling across the city just now, in full chime, was a riot of pleasure. The wind was high and the sun was positively blazing. I had been irritated by inconsiderate people getting in my way on the outward journey this morning and I had consequently been disappointed by my irritation. On the way back, however, nothing could dent my wholehearted dedication to loving the fuck out of everything. Indeed, I was repeatedly struck hard and with visceral joy by the absolute wonder of various things…

… goosebumps standing out on the arm of a passing woman as the sun dipped briefly behind a Simpsons-like cloud …. some powerfully evocative but wilfully elusive aroma, a sweet warm thing that took me back to my childhood, or some fictional childhood I saw in a film and took onboard as my own … Samuel L Jackson’s giant face, slightly contorted in a shop window … a full-size woman made from bronze standing on a ledge high on some building … the communication between cyclists, when things go wrong, and when they go right – either way, that connection, especially when the sun is out and the wind is high, is incredibly intoxicating….

So yeah, that was a lovely day. But they’re all pretty good these days. I feel very fortunate at the moment.

Speaking of which, tonight I will also commit to my first ayahuasca ceremony. I am very much looking forward to seeing, with those eyes.

Oh, also, I asked someone out sometime last week and was refused and it was a thoroughly splendid experience. I felt no nerves and I felt no embarrassment. It was all thoroughly positive. Even the ‘no’ was positive. Kind of. OK, too far. But it was good. I feel much less afraid than I used to. And where there is no fear, there is ever more possibility.

 

CHORES.

THESE ARE MY CHORES. THINGS I AM HEREBY PLEDGING TO HAVE ACHIEVED BY NEXT FRIDAY. CHORES COME IN CAPITALS.

BY THIS TIME NEXT WEEK I WILL HAVE:

* PAINTED THE REST OF THE FLAT

* SET UP MY DESK IN THE BEDROOM

* PERCEIVED THE WORLD IN AN ENTIRELY NEW WAY

* BOUGHT A VACUUM CLEANER

I hope you have a truly golden weekend/week/life. Tell me something.

Anon!

 

Filed under: FEEDBACK, REAL LIFE

Feedback Friday :: Hip Hip

Hurray!

work completed :: 6 copywriting jobs / 2 hours of teaching

hours of Dutch learning :: maybe 2 hours

physical exercise :: 4 gym visits

metaphysical exercise :: 13 metaphysical gym visits

weight lost :: got down to under 11st, thus achieving aim and gathering fodder. Weight loss is no longer the goal. From September 16th, there is a new goal. Let’s call it – for now – The Enbuffening.

routine adhesion :: 60%

money owed to Donald Trump :: none

consecutive days spent in Holland :: 93

week 35/52 overall rating :: 9.5/10, with a couple of points gained only this morning…

…

Quite a week, quite a week.

I’ll tell you what happened.

Charles and Fay came to Amsterdam – you don’t know them, or maybe you do – to see Banksy – you know him, and at the same time you don’t. What a world. How much do we know for sure? And who the fuck are we?

I’ll tell you soon, but for now we must concentrate.

I also went to the Banksy Exhibition, and it was very good, if a little on the instantaneously forgettable side. I would probably like most of the images if I saw them on Twitter, and I’d retweet quite a few – particularly the more audacious ones, none of which have stuck in my head – but there was nothing at all there to move you. Or me, at least, and I’m easily moved. And I expect to be moved by art. And I was unmoved. So I exited through the gift shop. And I did not buy.

There is a new kitten in de Pijp. Which has been the cause if much hilarity. And relief, as the big one seems to have fallen for the little one as much as the humans have.

The Echo

There is nothing like a kitten.

What else?

Well, I saw this…

Duck

And I saw this…

Pearl

And I saw these…

Camel

And this morning I had confirmation that I will be moving into a lovely little flat (that I still haven’t actually seen in real life) in the West of Amsterdam, on September the 15th. So the search is over and I’ll be returning to England in a few days to prepare for the challenges ahead.

For they will be many. I will say more very soon, but now I must visit all the supermarkets again and take down my special cards.

Oh, and this weekend, I am meeting people.

Life has begun. In earnest. 

Here’s to you.

x

 

 

Filed under: FEEDBACK, REAL LIFE

Feedback Friday :: Heatwave

work completed :: 10 copywriting jobs / 4 hours of teaching

hours of Dutch learning :: at least 8 hours

physical exercise :: 5 gym visits / 4 back routines / lots and lots of cycling

metaphysical exercise :: 14 metaphysical gym visits

weight lost :: this morning I was down to 11st 3, so just three pounds to go

routine adhesion :: 70%, kinda

money owed to Donald Trump :: shit all

consecutive days spent in Holland :: 86

week 34/52 overall rating :: 7.5/10. The lack of a place to live next month is still a concern, but it’ll all work out. That much is obvious.

…

I’m back in a state of limbo, waiting to see if I’ve got somewhere to live, and frankly, everything else is kind of on hold. Which is to say I’m using it as an excuse not to write more. A little bit.

But:

I’m waiting to hear back on a place for three. (Via Facebook.)

I’m waiting to hear back on a place for one. (Via word of mouth.)

And I’m waiting to hear back from a guy who shops in Albert Heijn. (Via one of the cards I put up in various supermarkets.)

Maybe this one…

Maybe another.

Either way, there’s definitely a balance to be achieved between making positive proactive steps to try and find somewhere, and just taking it easy every now and then and seeing what unfolds. At the moment I’m allowing myself a short wallow in phase two.

…

It is now eleven hours later and all three of the above got back to me, all of them with positive tidings. So options have opened up and things are now looking distinctly awesome, one way or the other.

So that’s it. Our work here is done. If things continue to move in the right direction, I should be making progress with THE HUGE MASSIVE LIFE PROJECT within a month. With maybe a week in London before we settle in.

Isn’t life awfully good? What you up to?

X

 

 

Filed under: FEEDBACK, REAL LIFE Tagged: Amsterdam, shelter

Feedback Friday :: Gimme Shelter

Ah ha ha ha! It’s a duck!

work completed :: 17 copywriting jobs / 1 scriptwriting job / 2 hours of teaching

ongoing jobs :: 1 apparently stalled copywriting job / my life

hours of Dutch learning :: 2 hours. I have found an online course. It’ll do for now. I’ve also been glancing through some children’s books. Dutch is kind of on hold though. There are more pressing matters.

physical exercise :: 6 gym visits / 2 back routines / lots of cycling

metaphysical exercise :: 10 metaphysical gym visits

weight lost :: Another pound or two. Despite my slavish devotion to the gym of late, I still have 8 pounds to lose in the next 12 days. Piece of cake.

routine adhesion :: 70%. Not the routine I would like, but some kind of routine.

money owed to Donald Trump :: none

consecutive days spent in Holland :: 79

week 33/52 overall rating :: 7/10. I am beginning to get antsy about finding somewhere to live. I don’t have much time. This fact is beginning to endarken my days – only very slightly, but the time has come to take control of the situation.

…

A couple of months ago I posted a list of 21 reasons why anyone with some space going spare in Amsterdam should definitely consider me as a flatmate or tenant. One of the people who read the list knew someone in De Pijp who was about to come into a little space for a couple of months, so they put me in touch and I moved in here in July.

Now, with September fast approaching, I need to find myself somewhere more permanent.

So my plan over the next few days is fivefold:

1. Update the list of reasons and send it to everyone I know in Amsterdam – on the off-chance.

2. Write a series of cards advertising my specialness and post them around all of the supermarkets in the areas of the city in which I would most like to live. On the off-chance.

3. Delve a little more deeply into vacant property specialists. There is something called antikraak here, which sees people renting out empty spaces so that they don’t get squatted. It’s generally cheap but slightly precarious, as you can be asked to move out with 28 days’ notice. That risk aside, the tenancy period is a minimum of six months. I like the sound of it, frankly, but it seems you have to be officially registered here before you can sign up to these agencies. And you can’t get registered if you don’t have an official address. So you see. There’s a catch.

4. Delve a little more deeply into the whole estate agent thing. I’m resisting for now. There are a lot of rules and regulations when it comes to things like housing in Holland, and it seems that agencies don’t like people without fixed incomes.

5. Walk around the red light area, looking up, stopping only to stare wistfully at one particular attic flat, on the fourth floor, with an open window and a diaphonous purple curtain flapping faintly in a warm breeze. Hear a voice. ‘Hey, you.’ Turn to the voice and see a woman with short black hair smiling. ‘I see what’s on your mind,’ she says. She has a French accent. Say nothing. ‘I see you looking at my home. What if I said I have a spare room, up there on the fourth floor, where you were just looking, wistfully. Would that be of interest to you?’ Look back at the woman. Realise that it is Audrey Tautou. Think about it for a moment. Move in.

So. Hopefully this time next week, something amazing will have happened.

Have a grand one.

x 

Apparently getting quite angry with de tijger.

 

Filed under: FEEDBACK, REAL LIFE Tagged: accommodation, Amsterdam, antikraak, Audrey Tautou

Catmilk :: Milk for Cats

A few weeks ago, Facebook reminded me of a terrible mix-up that occurred four years ago. I had forgotten about it – somehow – but thought I might now share it, for pussterity, even though in the initial letter I have written e.g. instead of i.e. and I am obviously absolutely mortified…

I like the withering stare that cat is aiming at that insult of a signature. Anyhow, four years of resting assured ensued and there has, I am pleased to report, been change. At least, as far as their website is concerned. See…

But sadly, there is still lots of room for error in-store…

Shame on you, Whiskas ®. Shame on you.

 

Filed under: CORRESPONDENCE Tagged: cats, complaint, Whiskas

Feedback Friday Tuesday :: Thicker Than Water

I missed Friday. You may have noticed. You know why I missed Friday? Because I was busy. I had copywriting jobs and scriptwriting jobs and family in town and something had to be sacrificed.

It’s great that I have work, don’t get me wrong. If all goes well, it’s work that will allow me to live here in Amsterdam. But I can’t help feeling just a tiny bit resentful of all that time it steals away.

‘Welcome to the real world,’ my sister would say. She says it often.

But she exaggerates. This is hardly the real world. I’m still a lot freer than most. Even if I happen to work a 40-hour week, I’ll do most of it lying on a bed. I can work like a beast and be up against the clock but it’s a rare moment indeed when I’m not free enough, should I so desire, to knock one out or burn one up. You feel me? I mean, usually I don’t, but knowing that I can, should I choose to, fills me with so much joy that occasionally I will.

I digress.

Work is a means to an end, and actually rather enjoyable most of the time, but occasionally, things get lost.

C’est la guerre.

My sisters came over for a couple of days. The weather was dull but our spirits were high and there was a lot more eating than I’m used to. I ate a lot of very bad, very enjoyable things.

For the next two weeks I shall punish myself.

The pictures are from the Bodyworlds exhibition, but I’m guessing you already knew that.

Only two stats this week. Here they are:

percentage of things I said I’d wanted to achieve by Friday achieved :: zero

days to find somewhere to live :: 15

Exciting times.

x

Filed under: FEEDBACK, REAL LIFE Tagged: Bodyworlds, Gunther von Hagens

Feedback Friday :: Overwhelm

On the wall of a pub in Amsterdam, earlier.

work completed :: 10 copywriting jobs / 5.5 hours of teaching

ongoing jobs :: 3 more copywriting jobs – whoppers I tell you

hours of Dutch learning :: 1 concerted hour. Maybe. The toad work kills everything, you see. Well, not everything. One day though, one day I’ll have nothing to do but learn Dutch, play guitar, write my own stories and acquiesce to the insistent fondling of Nepalese maidens.

cinema visits :: 1 (The BFG – highly recommended)

books being read :: none – there really aren’t enough hours in the day

physical exercise :: 4 gym visits – the tyrannical toad work made me miss a couple of sessions

metaphysical exercise :: 5 metaphysical gym visits. Ah yes. There has been change in this area. One day I’ll tell you more, because I know you want to know.

weight lost :: Another pound or two – my body is trying to plateau, but I’m intent on pushing through

routine adhesion :: meh

money owed to Donald Trump :: none

consecutive days spent in Holland :: 65

week 31/52 overall rating :: 8/10. Work brought down the average, frankly, but metaphysical work-outs took it back up.

…

Freelancing is weird. When work comes, it comes not as single spies but in battalions. It’s like there’s a conspiracy to overwhelm you. Quiet quiet BANG.

So I have no time for this today.

Just enough to put your mind at rest.

Everything is going well.

Better than well.

Before this time next week, these are the things I wish to have achieved:

* I want to have sourced my CineCard.

* I want to have begun my push to find somewhere to live in September.

* I want to … nah, fuck it. That’ll do.

What would you like to have achieved?

It’s OK. You don’t have to answer. I know we don’t have much of a dialogue, you and I. But it’ll come. In the meantime though, here, have a cat…

Poekie, stretching like a chicken.
Filed under: FEEDBACK, REAL LIFE

Feedback Friday :: All This and Oceans of Soup

Some soup, earlier.

work completed :: 8 copywriting jobs / 2.5 hours of teaching

hours of Dutch learning :: maybe 2. I need a teacher. A teacher is what I need.

cinema visits :: 1

soup :: oceans

physical exercise :: 6 gym visits, a few hours of cycling, mostly lost.

metaphysical exercise :: none

weight lost :: not sure, but I’m now down below 12 stone, just. So I’m over halfway there with another full month to go.

routine adhesion :: 40%

money owed to Donald Trump :: none

consecutive days spent in Holland :: 58

week 30/52 overall rating :: 8/10. Not bad, but maybe a little dull. All I seemed to do this week was write and exercise. Which is not a bad life, don’t get me wrong. But I may need to get out more.

…

I need to get a Dutch bank account. Or access to one. My own, obviously, would be ideal. But anyone’s would do.

I need a Dutch bank account for many reasons, but primarily, and as soon as possible, so I can purchase a Cineville card. Once you have a Cineville card, you can go to any of 12 cinemas in Amsterdam as often as you like. I’ve just had a look at all of the participating cinemas and there are some real doozies. Check out the Eye Filmmuseum, for example. That, frankly speaking, looks like one of the finest cinemas I have ever seen. And imagine – €19 to see as many films as you like. I could see like, 12 a month easily. So. That’s my plan.

What else? Ah yes, a mysterious package came in the post. It had been incorrectly addressed. Rather than give it back to the postman, I got all internet Sherlock on its ass and tracked down the intended recipient, who turned out to be a very interesting New Yorker who’s been here for 20 years.

I like the fact that I got to meet this person in such a way. It makes me feel like I’m living in a novel.

Which of course I am.

Oh, and I also turned down some regular and really rather interesting and fun work this week because the pay was a goddamn insult. It could mean that I have turned down a lot of money overall, and that does concern me slightly when my entire future in this country still hangs in the balance, but I have to start valuing myself properly. I have to take a stand against … um. Well, against the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men.

Because I’m worth it.

And now I’m off out to drink a moderately healthy amount of alcohol and converse with humans.

As for you – you have a great weekend.

Anon!

X

Filed under: FEEDBACK, REAL LIFE