YES!

I have a job and it's a brilliant job and a well-paid job and a nice-hours job and an interesting job and a chill job and a holidays-off job and a good-for-my-CV job and a job which starts soon and a job which will pay for stuff and a job which will give me some freedom and a job which will bring me into town and out of the house every day and a great job. And I am excited.

A very brackety Christmas

As the end of December comes closer, I get more and more invitations to Christmassy events. Last night I went to the Winter Jamboree at the Guild and it was pretty much lovely. I got a henna tattoo (which isn't too pretty, I must say, but at least I can scratch an item of my bucket list), a poem written especially for me (printed below), sweets from a piñata (though I didn't wack it myself), some Indian deepfried things I forgot the name of already (sorry Steven) and some spicy Chinese food (which I gave to Andy). I also saw some horrible music piece from the Theatre Society (which was basically them dancing and singing to Glee songs), a rather unsynchronised dance by BodySoc (with one ginger guy surrounded by a bunch of girls and doing the same moves, which was rather disturbingly funny), a nice Chinese dance (with traditional clothing and pretty pink fans) and some lovely Bollywood dancing (which left me bouncing in my seat). There was also a piece by the Reenactment Society (prompting a rather geeky conversation between Steven and I about who was Royalist and who was Parliamentarian) and a 15min show by Sticky Floor (which started off a little rough but ended nicely). The only real downside of the evening was the raffle (in which I didn't participate) which lasted for at least ten minutes, solely consisting of a guy calling of numbers which nobody had.

Tonight Cafe Home (the international student society I am part of and help to organise) is going to a Carol Concert (yet another item on my bucketlist I will be able to cross off), something I am very much looking forward to. After that I will probably head down to a Christmas party organised by some of my church friends, where I will taste a mince pie for the first time in my life (though I might have one before, at the carol concert), accompagnied by mulled wine (which we like to call 'Glühwein', a term very blatantly stolen from the Germans).

On Monday the Frisbee team has its Christmas meal, in which I shall be participating and which more or less constitutes my first English Christmas meal. However, I have a slight feeling I might have to wait for the crackers and partyhats (there is some special name for them which I don't exactly recall right now) til Thursday, when I will celebrate Christmas with my dear friends Tom, Liz, Jonny and Anne (and probably Anne's boyfriend, Matt). In between I might hop over to the cinema for a beautiful rendition of C.S.Lewis's "Voyage of the Dawn Treader" (something I am very much looking forward to) on Wednesday night. Friday will be an extremely busy day, as I will have two Christmas parties to attend, both the Cafe Home one (international students) and the Christmas party at Barrington Road (church people). I am not sure how I am going to juggle those two but I am sure I'll find a way.

After all these parties, I have a mere four days left before I leave for Belgium, something I am very excited about. I have never looked forward to going home this much, not even when I felt so homesick in November. For the first time in years, Christmas has this magical attraction to me, like a fairytale I will be completely immersed in for two weeks. I of course know this is a rather unrealistic expectation, but I can't help dreaming about being home, in front of the fire, thick socks on my feet, feet on the new hardwood floors, Christmas tree in the corner, brother playing at my feet and my cat on my lap. I still have to decide what books to take, what clothes to wear, how and when to giftwrap my presents, but for now, dreaming will do. It is strange how much a holiday like this can make you long for home. I am going home for Christmas, and though I've technically done the same thing for the last four years, this year I am not just going home, I am coming home. No matter how lovely Liverpool might be, Belgium is still the place which holds my heart, which I call home, where I belong. This might all change with time, but right now, I can't wait to go home.

Hanne

She gets funny looks

for carrying her history books

She just loves the past

She thinks it's a blast

She's from Belgium, but loves it here

She's a lovely girl, she's such a dear

Job?

I actually found another job I might get, though it won't be until the new year, which basically makes sense, as no job would employ me now seeing I will be off for two weeks over Christmas. The job would be temporary but with possibility of staying on and is perfectly up my street. The company sells Shakespeare education packs with DVD's, which ties in with my dissertation subject. It has very sensible hours and a good pay (£6.60/hour) and I could probably manage to work full time instead of part time. But, I shouldn't be too excited yet, we will just have to wait til I get an interview (which will be in January). Hopefully this will work out, I really want to do it!

I found a puddle in the park

The park is coated in frosting, the vivid green grass hidden beneath its silvery white tips. As I walk across the lawn, the grass cracks underneath my boots. And then, silence. I look down. I see myself, blurry, dark, with little green specks across my face. I glance around, but no one seems to notice. Slowly I slide. My foot glides across the glassy surface. A giggle escapes me. A quick pirouette. A grin. My eyes see another pair looking at me, a smile in its corners. My feet touch ground, we walk on, strangers but for a single moment. And the mirror remains, hidden in the grass.

Cold and foggy

So I thought I had found this really good job, but after some extensive research, it turned out that though it all looked good at first sight, this was a very clever and well-documented fraud. Which means the jobhunt contines.

Meanwhile, I am missing Sinterklaas and it really gets to me. I mean, my mom has sent me a package (which hasn't arrived yet, but maybe in today's post), but it's still not the same. I am really looking forward to going home, to a warm house filled with family and friends and seeing Brugge in winter (gorgeous).

But for now, I am stuck in foggy Liverpool, trying to find a job and figuring out what the better option is. You see, if I accept a job which earns less than 8 pounds an hour, I will actually receive less money than I would be if I just stayed on benefits. Benefits provide me with about 110 pounds a week, which covers my rent and just enough money to live on. If I accept a part-time job which earns less than 8 pounds an hour, I will in effect earn less than that. And there aren't many full-time jobs I can fit around my schedule. It is rather disturbing. Which is why that job seemed so good, but it's almost certainly a hoax. It is all a little disappointing, one must admit. But I will figure something out, no matter what. It'll probably mean living on a little less and I really am not sure where I am gonna get enough money to pay my tuition fees, but I will just deal with it. After all, the job as a waitress is still open, and though that really doesn't pay enough, I can actually combine it with benefits and then do some extra shifts during the examination period and earn a little extra for those tuition fees. I will figure something out, I am sure. And if I don't, then that is life, and I will simply return to Belgium after a year. The future is this, and I accept it.

Update: more good news

My landlady has agreed to give me two more weeks. Hallelujah!

Good news

My money issues might soon be resolved. It's all still a little too uncertain right now, but I will let you know when I know more. However, this I can say: whatever happens, I will do everything to stay here. Be it in this house or not, I will do my best. I don't know how I will fix uni yet, but we will see how things go. For now, this is where I want to be. And if I get kicked out, well, I guess I'll just have to find a new place then. A warmer place. A cleaner place. Something closer to city centre. With a better shower. And maybe a garden. Aaaaahh... Is it bad that I might be getting a little excited about being kicked out?