New room, mistakes and little sleep

I slept in my own room for the first time last night. And I have to say after a week of sleeping on the couch it was a welcome change. I have few complaints; the bed is a little sqeaky and the duvet (or dekbed as we know it in Dutch) is a bit light. But it was ever so nice to be able to wake up and just walk to the bathroom without having to worry about what I am going to wear, because I can just walk back to my room wrapped in my towel!
Having my own room was also a well deserved change. Not only because of sleeping on the couch for a week, but also because of something that happened before the weekend. On friday I went to see what I thought was my Erasmus(the exchange program) coordinator. I told him which courses I wanted to take and he was going to sort things out for me. On saturday however, I received an email from him saying that I am not his erasmus coordinator but another person is. So I emailed my new coordinator and now I am still anxiously awaiting his reply.
I personally think it is not really professional of the Erasmus organisation here to sign me up with the wrong coordinator. And I even already knew it, because on the application form I got it said that I was in the English and American studies department. 'Strange' I though, my major is linguistics. So I went up to Sarah Bloor, who is part of the organisation. I asked her whether this was alright. She told me my home university probably didn't have an exchange place for linguistics and I should just go and see the erasmus coordinator I was signed up with. I myself thought that linguistics might be part of English and American studies. But no, I was right in the first place; they had made a mistake.
You can imagine it was thus, really nice to finally have a room to call my own. Also aspecially after having two nights of little sleep.
First on friday there was a farewell party at our place for the girl who was (finally) moving out of my room. And for some others who were also leaving. Kind of strange, all those sad people around you speaking of leaving while you have just arrived yourself. And I can't be sad about it either.
This party was, obviously, also taking place in the living room which at that point was still my bedroom. Hence I had to wait untill the party was over before I could go to sleep. Probably I could also have gone to slepp in somebody elses room, but I didn not really feel comfortable about it.
On saturday there was a dorm party at Owens Park (the largest area of student accomodation with also a computer cluster). One of my new found international friends(a Korean girl(I feel so Gilmore Girls!)) and her flatmates were hosting a dorm party because of the end of exams. I had arranged to meet up with three of my American friends, so we could all go there together. I was the last one to leave however. I stayed chatting to this British guy about music and movies (....I can all read your faces now!!!!). Nothing happened though, but he lend me two dvd's. So nothing has to happen and will still have made a friend with whom I share two main interests. Hmmm, that sounds quite lame actually. I better make something happen!

Parcel Adventure

Whilst I was still in the low lands at the other side of the sea in the beginning of this month, I ordered two cd singles on eBay. I had some left over money on my pay pal account, it was left over because I had transferred it over there in the summer and I was not missing it now. And so I browsed eBay on Belle & Sebastian items and I found two of their cd singles for quite a cheap price. And seeing as how I already had an address in the UK, I thought: why pay extra to send them to Holland when I can send them to the UK for less? Two cd singles fit through the mailbox right? I trust my future housemates, my cd singles will arrive safely and wait happily for me to come and put them in my discman.
But when I arrived in Manchester I had forgotten all about them. I was being a lousy cd owner, up untill the point where I suddenly remembered. I asked my housemates if they had seen a note in the mail saying a parcel had arrived for me. And yes, they did, but alas they had lost the note.
Now what was I to do? I went to the post office. I had to stand in line between a woman that smelled of living with twenty cats and not showering for forty days, and a woman that kept making strange sounds in her mouth assumingly involving her tong and saliva. But I had to save my cd singles from sitting in their parcel.
Finally it was my turn. I told the woman behind the counter my problem. She told me to go to the sorting office. It was a big building opposite the Sainsbury's in Fallow field. 'You can't miss it'
And so I was on my way again. I got off at the Sainsbury's and looked around, but the Sainsbury's pretty much seemed to be the biggest building around. And nowhere opposite could I find the sorting office. Well, I thought, before I start walking around for hours trying to find this sorting office, I better just ask somebody where it is. I addressed a local looking man, if I could ask him something. He was local alright; he returned my polite request with a look of certain discomfort. I did not wait for an answer; 'I'm looking for the sorting office?' 'It's right over there.' The guy waved his hand in what seemed to be a random direction. I looked, but didn't see the sorting office. 'Oh right' I said, but I was not an inch closer to retrieving my parcel. 'It's just where I'm going actually.'
I followed the guy across the road. I kept my distance though, didn't want to upset the poor guy. A stranger coming up to you in the streets asking you where the sorting office is, it's quite distressing really.
We had been walking for some 50 meters, but there was still no sign of a big building which was supposed to be the sorting office. But wait, there behind those trees. There was a fairly big building, but only one story high though. No way could I have spotted this all the way over from the Sainsbury's.
I went inside. There was just one counter. I waited for my 'guide' to get his parcel and then I approached the counter too. I explained my problem to the guy standing behind it. All the information is on the note, he told me. I told him I didn't have it. 'But we have over a thousand parcels over here.' 'I understand that, but is there no way of finding it?'
He asked me to write down my name and the address. And then he asked at about what date it would have been sent. I gave him all this information. He disappeared into the storage room. I prepared myself to do some waiting; 'We have over a thousand parcels here.'
But the guy returned after about five seconds, I was very surprised; these guys are fast! He was holding my parcel in his hands. I showed him some ID and he handed the parcel over to me. Thank you so much I told him, and I walked out of the door to take my babies home.

Five days

I have been living out of a suitcase for the past say five days now. And it would not have been that bad I guess, for a tidy person who folds her clothes neatly everyday. But I am not that person. I drop my clothes in my suitcase. And so the more clothes I wear the more space they are taking up in my suitcase and it is getting harder to close my suitcase, by the day.
Yesterday I went into town to buy beddings (duvet cover and fitted matrass cover etc.). I matched all the colours and had so much fun doing it. But it made me realise that I am still sleeping in the living room, I can not use them yet. Crap!
It's not like I want to force the other girl out of there or something. I don't give her nasty looks, or hints about me really wanting to move into her room. But sometimes when I am in the bathroom (which is next to my future room), I can almost feel what it's like when it'll be mine. I take a crap and a shower and imagine what it's like not having to get dressed in the bathroom too. Just be able to take five steps and walk back into my room, get lotioned and get dressed. Ah, the sweet bliss it'll be.
But meanwhile I just have to put up with the living room for a few more nights. Don't worry I'll be fine, really. I just think to myself, it'll feel even better after having to wait for it a little longer. If we all got what we wanted just like that. Just snap your fingers and it's there, it would become a bore. Admittedly it would be convenient with guys. Just snap your fingers and *poof* he's there in front of you. Okay maybe a bit of flirting, glancing, smiling. But that's it, after that it should be easy. Oh what am I saying, I have yet to meet a cute guy here in Manchester. But then again I have only been here for say five days, living out of a suitcase.

I travel U.K. North

Finally the moment is there.
After my parents, my sister and her boyfriend dropped me off at the airport; nothing emotional to it, though I myself was at the verge of tears for a few seconds after having gone through the passport control. After having waited for my f-ing flight for two hours (I still don't see why you have to get there that early). After having gone up and almost right after that, down again (it's so short, they shouldn't even be calling it a flight). After getting off the plane and waiting for Sarah for ten minutes; poor thing had been running around the different terminals because she didn't know which one I'd be arriving in. After riding the bus together with her to Rusholme; my new neighbourhood to be. After ringing the bell at my new home for five months coming. And after having walked through the door, I was finally there.
Well not exactly, because I wasn't in my room yet. And I won't be for the next week because the girl whos room I'll be taking over is still here. So for now, my room is the living room. Which is quite nice, I guess. Well if you like Egyptian style furniture that is. But even if you don't, I must say Egyptian style furniture sleeps pretty good.
So was it all as dramatic and heroic as I thought it'd be? Not exactly. I don't really feel as if I'm a whole new person just yet ;) But what do you expect right? It's not as if I have walked through some sort of magical portal saying 'become a new person' above it. It's just the sea I've crossed, not even an ocean (right?).
So after one night of British sleep I decided I'd through myself into the busses (not in front off, that'd make my trip here very short!). I took a bus to the city centre; U.K. North was the first to arrive, so U.K. North now is my bus. See there's different bus companies over here and you can't get onto say a Stagecoach or Finglands bus with a U.K. North ticket. You can buy a weekly ticket which is only 2 pounds, and so I did. And so from that day onward I'll travel U.K. North (or at least for this week).
I did some shopping downtown and when I was done I took the bus home again. This was much more tricky. Because on the mainstreet that goes through Rusholme everything basically looks the same. So I was kind of nervous not to get off to soon or too late. Of course this woudn't have been the end of the world because I still have the ability to walk (lucky me!). But, I got off exactly where I needed to! Ha! I know this was nothing, because I had actually remembered a reference point (a restaurant called Jaffa's). Still I felt like I could've conquered the whole world there and then! It was great!

The end of an era?

Okay I know I'm not that old, but I am really starting to feel as if this is my turn of the century. After the following week I'll leave behind a whole lot of what used to be me. Confusing? Let me break it down for you.
I am literally leaving behind a lot of things; clothes and other belongings which I have gathered over the last 23 years. Those things form who I am today. From the first stuffed animal that I got when I was a baby to the pair of earrings I bought on holiday but broke after I'd worn them so many times, to last book I bought because I had to read it for school but hated. All those things are a tiny part of me and now I have to leave them behind.
But I'm leaving more things behind, and I've left some of them already; I've moved out of the flat where I was living with three flatmates. The flat where I first lived when I moved out of my parents house. The flat where I learned that if you get to close to a person they easily annoy you. Where I learned that most people are so much different from you that you can't always expect them to understand you. I lived there for three years. When you are 23, three years is a pretty long time. Three years is a big part of your life and I have left it behind.
Now I'm about to set off to a whole new environment. I'm not just moving to another flat, which would have been a nice change if I wasn't going abroad. And I'm not just moving to another city within the same country, which would have been no option at all. See, if you have lived in Amsterdam all of your life there really is no other place you want to live in Holland. No, I am moving to another country, with another language (in which I am writing right now, yes I am fully aware of that), and other food and drinks and habits.
It might sound a bit more dramatic than it actually is, but it is going to be a big change. And it is going to change me. And I feel that when I come back, well quite a few things that I have left behind will no longer be a part of me. They will be a part of what used to be me.

Tick tock, tick tock, try not to go crazy

Only a few days have past since my blog went online but the Manchester fever in Fleur's head is growing stronger everyday. I really have to hold myself back not to have fantasized the whole five months already. I could just as well not go, write all my mindtrips down and those of you who will not come and visit me would never know wether I've really been there or not. Stealing all my pictures of the internet and photo-shopping myself into them! Nah, it wouldn't be as much fun. Plus I would actually have to lock myself away and do grocery shopping incognito just to make sure nobody'll recognize me and make an end to my scam!
So I'll settle for having to wait and try not to think about it too much. But I had to add this one cute little gadget to my blog. I came across it as I looked at some girls profile on myspace. It's a ticker! Hand picked from http://tickerfactory.com It counts down to the 21st of January, the day I am actually leaving (and my father's birthday).
So hereby I proudly present, Fleur's ticker:

Testing once more

Just for the record, this is the second time I'm trying this blog on for size. Wasn't really happy with it the first time. But after seeing other free blogsites I came to the conlcusion that this one was the best I saw. That is, the best that doesn't acquire me downloading software. I also considered doing a whole website, but then I figured it'd be even more work (yay, lazay, may!) plus it wouldn't allow all my precious friends to leave comments! Because obviously I want to hear all about how gorgeous you all think my blog is and how brilliant my writing :P As for the blog (it's a template, I'll try to muddle with it but I'm not sure how to do that!). As for my writing nevermind commenting on that really, just tell me how much you miss me all and when you are coming to visit me!! Would you listen to me, I'm not even gone yet!!

p.s. Isn't this template tacky?? I hate to admit it, but I love it!!