Stage(d)

My summer of work is over. The Dutch summer has been over for quite a while, of course; but that’s secondary. For me it’s all done, I just did my last shift of my last full week at the place I work. From here on in I’ll be down to three and I’ll somehow have to make ends meet that way. Hopefully I can quickly find some extra freelance work. Let’s see what happens.

Still, I’m very happy that the next stage is about to start. My ‘getting my life sorted out in Holland’ stage took all of four months. Of course, it’s not completely sorted, some of the tail end of this stage might have to be dealt with in the next stage, but the line is definitely five days away; for then the stage ‘What the hell am I doing at university again’ will begin.

Hopefully that stage will quickly be followed by the ‘ah, so that’s what I’m doing at university’ stage, but nothing is certain. Well, that’s not true, one thing is certain, the Dutch are very good at pulling cash out of you any way they can.

I experienced that again today when I called about getting insured. You see, in the Netherlands you have to be insured. It’s THE LAW (did I mention that already?). So I called them up (because I have to get insured within four months) and asked about how much it would all cost, what the benefits would be and so forth.

They told me that they would love to insure me and they would need my bank details so that they could take the cash for this month, oh yes, and the cash for the last four months as well (seeing as you need to be insured, as that’s THE LAW (did I mention that already?) and therefore they would kindly insure you retroactively for the last four months. Somehow if I’d got into an accident in the last four months I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t be so keen to insure retroactively).

So that is yet another attempt to extract cash from one of my bodily cavities. There’s a saying in Dutch that I rather liked when I first came back (I hadn’t heard it previously) and it roughly translates to ‘you can’t pull feathers of a naked chicken’. They might have the saying, but unfortunately they don’t pay it much heed. They’ve definitely managed to pull feathers from under my armpits and other ‘a’ areas (now my cheeks chaff).

I know this sounds very feathery (no pun intended) but it would be nice if they would sometimes let some of the down grow into full fledged plumage.

Of course, that’s not their primary ambition. They are probably also getting plucked by yet other organisations and their primary ambition is therefore to survive. And as we all know, to survive you need money. I just wish they wouldn’t need my money!

On loneliness

Last night – for a moment there – I was overwhelmed by that bitter sweet feeling of loneliness. Sweet because it’s such a strong emotion, such a physical emotion; bitter, well I guess it’s pretty obvious. After all it isn’t the nicest of emotions.

I haven’t felt lonely for quite a while there. I’ve been quite happy living a half-cloistered existence. I’ve purposefully been keeping to myself because a) it’s cheap b) I’ve really been enjoying doing my own thing and c) I see quite enough people at my work every day, thank you very much.

But yesterday was different. My boss’ son turned 20 and had a party in the café I was working in. That meant I was pouring drinks and making small talk with a big group of boisterous, loud and (after I’d poured a bit too much alcohol into them) quite drunk early 20 somethings.

Then – when I closed shop – they all left to do their own thing.

I was left behind and that warm social feeling just dropped away. Suddenly it was just me left to lock the door bike home alone, return to my (quite literally) empty room and my crumpled bed.

I think the thing was that I had no control over when the social thing ended. Or maybe I did (after all, it was my choice when to close the shop); but my responsibilities today played through my mind yesterday and forced me to hold back – forced me to act responsible.

Generally I dig that entire acting responsible thing. I enjoy having the feeling that I’m not wasting my life away. That I’ve got a purpose and a reason for doing things. That I’m building towards something. Still, it’s hard to let go of all those irresponsible thoughts and deeds that clouded my past. Being irresponsible is so much fun!

Have I finally truly grown up?

That’s a scary thought, isn’t it? Maturity even for the likes of me. Not to worry, though. It can never truly claim me. I sometimes forget that I have to be able to laugh at myself, but when that happens, life always conspires to teach me that lesson again – possibly even more roughly than last time. For he who can’t laugh at himself is in for a world of sorrow. I think all true humour comes from being able to take yourself with a grain of salt. I hope I never become so old that I forget that.

I also hope I never get so old that I become truly lonely. It’s a great emotion to feel every so often, just for the strength of it; but it could destroy you if you felt it every day, waking and sleeping.

I think loneliness is worse than depression. If you’re depressed you can share it with other depressed people and gain some traction. If you’re lonely; well, you’ve obviously only got yourself.

Help(ed)

I’ve been thinking about it and I have realised that I’ve been living an incredibly blessed existence since I’ve come back to Holland. Yes, things have been tough; but that’s largely been because of my own mistakes, loose ends and carelessness. Everything that’s come my way seems to have come from others.

People have been truly kind to me. My parents, my sister, her boyfriend, my ex(?), my colleagues, even the people at the university (who would have ever thought that?). The people on this blog, on face book and on e-mail have also been supportive and kind – it doesn’t matter that it was only in words, all that matters is that it was there.

Why am I this lucky?

If the Luck Factor is to be believed (a book that I read quite a while ago, now – but that I still refer to often, as you’ve probably noticed) luck is of our own making and in four specific regards 1. Maximise your Chance Opportunities 2. Listen to your Lucky Hunches 3. Expect Good Fortune 4. Turn your Bad Luck into Good Luck.

I’ve definitely been trying to do more of the first and the third has come by itself (I expect things to work out for the best and for some reason that actually seems to work!) But I can hardly say that I’ve changed my life around so much in the last year and a half that I deserve everything that has come my way.

Of course you can never say you deserve anything somebody else gives you of their own free will. I think that’s one of the big dangers. When you start expecting things, you become ungrateful; when you become ungrateful people don’t enjoy giving you those things anymore; and when they don’t enjoy giving you those things anymore, there’s a great likelihood that they will stop giving.

So I will not expect and I will truly appreciate. In a way this entry is an attempt to show that appreciation. It is an attempt to let those people who’ve helped me know that I am grateful for what they have done and that they can always come to me to ask something back. I know not all the people that have helped me read this blog (though quite a few do) and I will make certain that I tell every person again in person how I appreciate what they’ve done for me.

What’s more, I will gladly help anybody else that needs it. I believe that you don’t always need to give help back specifically to the person that’s helped you. I feel that it is okay to help others instead, if the first person doesn’t need it. After all, if everybody followed that rule then the person that helped you would end up getting helped by somebody else when they needed it as well, though long loops of helpfulness.

Of course, not everybody follows that rule; but it’s a start if I do and we’ll have gone a long way if you do too.

See Saw

A few days ago I tried to find the website that I originally used to sign up for my university degree, as I wanted to know the exact amount that I would have to pay. I remembered that it was somewhere around 3000,- Euroes for two years, but I wanted to be sure. I entered a number of searches and couldn’t find the website. Then I checked through my bookmarks and my e-mail and found the link. I clicked on it. It led nowhere.

The link was dead.

Alarmed I started searching for other websites about the research master I had just subscribed to. I soon found one, but there was one significant difference. The cost was 5000,- Euroes per year.

There was, of course, no way that I could possibly pay that amount. With my heart hammering in my chest I contacted the university and asked how much I would have to pay. ‘5000,-’ they informed me. I explained what had happened and the lady at the other end of the phone said, ‘well, the best thing you can do is write to the head of the department. There’s no guarantee, but he’s in charge of scholarships and finances.’

I wrote the man a letter in which I explained my predicament. I wrote emotionally, honestly, and frankly. I admitted my mistakes (it was quite a list) and then admitted that if I didn’t get any help, all my hard work would be undone.

I didn’t snivel; but it did come quite close to begging (in a face-saving manner, mind you).

Then I left for the city and wandered around in a daze. I pretty much admitted defeat. I said, ‘if they can’t help me. Well, then obviously it wasn’t meant to be. I will accept my fate and postpone my studies by a year.’

That night I came back (I watched ‘The Dark Knight’ to console myself) and I checked my e-mail. I’d already received a response and the response amounted to a 2500,- Euro scholarship.

I literally punched the air (something I thought was only a literary device, until then) and did a little jig. They’d kindly placed the study within reach again.

When I told a friend what had happened she said, ‘well, they must be really desperate for students’. I retorted, ‘maybe they’re just really desperate for me!’

‘Maybe,’ my sister said later, ‘it’s a little bit of both. Maybe they’re desperate for high quality students, which means they’re desperate for you.’

I liked that interpretation.

Trees and Forests

University starts in about 20 days and I’m in no way ready. I just got my first e-mail about what books to buy, with the helpful hint that I might want to think about pre-buying and pre-reading.

The book I’m supposed to be pre-reading is a book about methods and statistics. Right now I can’t even generate the energy to read about stuff I /want/ to read about; how the hell do they expect me to find the drive to read about methods and statistics?

The first and foremost problem ghosting through my mind right now is still very much ‘how am I ever going to pay for all of this?’. I’ve told the people at work that I’ll have to go back to three days of work a week. My study will take four days. That leaves me zero days to raise extra money, and as things stand right now I will only be making just enough to cover my base expenses. No fat, except for the little bit of extra money I’m raising this month.

How can I be thinking about methods and statistics when that’s all hanging above my head?

What I really need is some kind of fund or scholarship to help me out, but those don’t come knocking on my door either. I have to go out and look for them myself. The people at the government department that help most students with funding (Except for me, of course) helpfully compared finding a scholarship like that to ‘finding a needle in a haystack’. Oh boy, oh boy, I’m really looking forward to that.

Am I whinging? Yeah, I’m pretty sure what I’m currently doing is whinging; but then I’m terrified. I’m scared of the years ahead, I’m frightened of the poverty, I’m worried about whether I can do the degree and I’m deeply concerned about what further snakes are creeping through the savannah.

I must say, the people around me have been really supportive and I’m incredibly grateful for that. As always, I wouldn’t have been able to make it without those people. They feed my soul, they nourish my willpower. They take my annoyance, my frustration, my fear and let it wash over them without a sound, without a complaint. I owe them big time.

Maybe one day soon I’ll be able to repay them. When that light’s there at the end of the tunnel I might have a chance to do something back that will make their lives better. Till then it’s just a matter of looking at my own two feet and willing them forward a step at a time.

Don’t look too far ahead, because you’ll lose heart. A book has chapters so that we have a feeling of progress, a journey has steps so that we feel we’re getting somewhere. Just like a piece of text without chapters, pages, paragraphs, lines or breaks we’d rather not begin, in the same way will power is all about looking at the trees and not the forest. Just doing that little step now and worrying about the rest of those steps only when this little one is done.

And of course wisdom is keeping track of the entire forest. The big picture. That’s why they call people with too much of the first ‘stubborn’ and too much of the second ‘hesitant’.

So what if you’ve got both? Are you then ‘stubbornly hesitant’?

Films

Over the last few months I’ve watched some fantastic films and I’d thought I’d share a few with you here, in no particular order.

Air Guitar Nation
Yes, it’s a docu, but you have to watch it. This has been one of the most entertaining, uplifting and just plain weird films I’ve seen in years. It’s all about the Air guitar world championships and the people involved. Air guitar is where you act like your playing guitar, while you’re not holding anything. Kooky, strange, bizarre and ultimately fantastic.

Lola Rennt
A German flick that retells the same story a number of times through the application of chaos theory. You know the one ‘if a butterfly flaps its wings…’ Lola does run a lot – which might irritate some people – but she’s got fabulously red hair, which makes up for a lot. It’s good and I advise it to anybody looking for something different.

Stardust
There’s been a lot of children/ adult fantasy movies in the last year or so, but Stardust has been head and shoulders above the rest. I admit I might be biased, as I rather like Neil Gaiman’s work, but then everybody around me loved the film as well (and they don’t know Neil Gaiman). Plus Robert De Niro puts down a fantastic atypical performance.

Das leben der Anderen
Another German film about East Germany before the fall of the Iron curtain. Great colours, original story and deeply moving. This is one of those films that proves that there are other styles except for the ones done in Hollywood and they can work at least as well.

Paris je t’aime
A French film about love in Paris, told through rather a lot of short stories. The great thing is that each short story has been done by a different director and as a result affects a completely different style. Of course the individual quality of the short stories does vary (different directors and all) but overall the quality is very high.

Miller’s Crossing
I’ve watched a lot of Coen Brothers lately and I think that Miller’s Crossing (along with the Big Lebowski and Fargo) has to be one of my favourites. Great characters, good storyline and deeply engaging.

The Darjeeling Limited
Odd. Beautifully shot and entertaining. It gives an idea of what India might be like and the types that get lost there. The stylised, colour saturated shots make the film a visual feast, while the flawed characters are a great glimpse into your own family’s screwed up relationships.

Screaming

Apologies ahead of time, but I need to vent for a bit. A great deal isn’t really going my way right now and screaming it out into the cyber world might be better than screaming it at some random passer by on the street.

A lot of stuff isn’t going my way right now. You know, the usual; bills to pay when you really don’t even have enough money to eat; a mounting wave of incoming financial obligations with no real idea of how you’re going to deal with them; exhaustion and a complete lack of interest in reading, writing and other intellectual pursuits; a university education that’s going to take a huge amount of time that I don’t really have; a job that’s so tiring that I don’t have the energy to search for another one and to top it all off a place where I’m starting to enjoy working less and less.

It’s that last one that I’m going to talk about. More specifically it’s the last one yesterday that I’m going to talk about. Yesterday was probably the worst day that I’ve had at my job.

It was gay parade in Amsterdam. That meant that the city was flooded – not just with gays, but also with tourists who wanted to go and see the gays break loose. Of course, this meant that it was incredibly busy. That’s nothing new, though. Busy we can deal with. Unfortunately not just was it busy, but nothing seemed to work.

It started with the computer system. We use these mobiles to take orders on the terrace. Unfortunately, we’ve only got one left (after two died horrible deaths in the last couple of days). This means the main responsibility for taking the orders falls on one person. The first person to take this role was lax. When the second person took over and walked out onto the terrace they were basically attacked by mobs of coffee desiring, apple pie demanding and hot-chocolate craving customers.

I was standing bar and trying to give these people what they wanted, but there were no coffee cups (the washer didn’t think it was necessary to pick up his pace). Then there was no apple pie because the kitchen didn’t think it was necessary to listen to my insistent beeping on the intercom. Then I had apple pie, but no whipped cream (because the canisters hadn’t been sent down to be refilled) and of course everybody wanted whipped cream.

Apparently the customers all took it in good stride – but I certainly didn’t.

And then there was dinner. Already frazzled from the afternoon of madness we went into dinner hoping that things would be better. We got to close the terrace because of rain (bad for business but good for overworked staff) and run the insides as a restaurant. All was going well until suddenly food stopped coming up. Thirty minutes passed and customers started looking at us expectantly. Suddenly I remembered the pink stripes that had come up on the food order tickets that had last been sent up.

They weren’t that stupid, were they? Downstairs I went to ask if they had replaced the paper roll in the printer, seeing as those pink stripes meant the paper was nearly out. ‘You need to replace the paper rolls?’

Fucking idiots.

It’s a Saturday night, prime time, during a festival and they don’t even think ‘hey, we haven’t had orders for quite a while, maybe something is wrong’.

We rewrite out the tickets, by hand and get them back to work – then we go out to the floor and offer all the affected tables drinks on the house. The peace is restored. New tables walk in and take orders.

These new orders come up before some of the old hand written orders are finished! These people get their food in ten minutes, while the table next to them has been waiting for an hour. How, pray tell, do you explain that?

I told the rest of the staff that if something like this happens again I’m running away screaming. I’m not sure if I was serious.

Friend Wheel

There’s this application on facebook that’s called the ‘Friend Wheel’. It’s an interesting little app, in that it shows how all your friends are connected. Who knows who among your friends. The important thing being the ‘among your friends’ part, as it doesn’t show anything more than that.

This screwed me up, originally. You see, quite a lot of my friends don’t know each other. There are quite distinct groups, where every friend might have met within that clique, but the only connection between the individual groups was – obviously – me.

This meant that I had lots of white space in my friend wheel. The connectivity simply wasn’t that great. I saw this as a bad thing. I looked at other people’s friends circles and everybody seemed to know each other. I thought ‘am I doing something wrong?’

But I’m not. You could say they are.

Let me explain that. The fact that their circles are incredibly interconnected means that all their friends know each other; which basically means that they are all the same group. The group may be very large – but the person with the very interconnected friends wheel is basically not very good at meeting new people by themselves. They are reclusive and depend on others to meet new people.

The less connected your friends circle, the more you are the one to go out and meet new people (and the less these new people you meet meet your former friends, of course, but I’ll get back to that). The outgoing extrovert with the large social network that can get them things done, because they always know somebody who can help them is the facebook persona who knows a lot of people, while these people barely know each other; the friend circle with lots of entries, but few spokes.

Of course there is another good reason that the people I know don’t really know each other (there’s always as second explanation) and that’s distance. I move around so much that the people I know will have trouble knowing each other. So that deflates my extroverted outgoing bubble a bit.

Still, it just shows that our instinctive desire (many lines between all the people) is not necessarily the right one. Ultimately the network with fewer spokes will be more useful (as there will be far more people from different walks of life in it – giving you both more fulfilment and more resources).

Yes, I’ve just spent an entire entry on a facebook application.