Inflight Information

Goodbye California

2009-06-16T09:04:00.000-07:00

You have been good to me, and I will see you again!

Mykro

2009-06-09T11:19:00.000-07:00

My dear friends and strangers,
I have been off the grid for a while. The reason (which for once is not plainly being awol) is that I became the proud features and copy editor at MykroMag, an up and coming online magazine which will slowly make it's way to being printed, hopefully!

We just went online with our second issue, check it out at www.mykromag.com.

I wrote a piece for it as well, and even published some photo's. Why not?
It's a tribute to the city of San Francisco called 'The Fourty-Niners'. Hope you like it!

Fourty-one cents

2009-05-20T13:52:00.000-07:00

Scarlet patent leather pumps, sweaty ginger hair, electric blue dress. As she staggers out the door, inebriated, her jacket hanging off one arm, they look at her and at each other. Four in the morning, three young men lingering in front of the venue. Orange light, brown stones, the faint thump thump from the music inside. One wears black. His hair is slicked back, smothered in solidified hair product, you could snap off a strand if you so desired. She struggles to button up her trenchcoat, the cigarette in her lipsticked mouth waiting to be lit. The one in black starts. One dime at a time, he tosses them at her, but she is too involved with the buttonholes to notice. The fourth coin hits her cheek, and she looks up in surprise. He hides behind a group of people heavily dicussing. She can't see him, and reaches in her pocket for her lighter.
Ignoring his friend, number two decides a different approach. He walks up to her, offers a light. She gestures to the lighter in her hand, but accepts his offer nonetheless. As her fingers surround the flame, they block out the wind, and he asks her where they are going afterwards. Where is the afterparty? She shakes her head, it's time for bed. Tomorrow's another long day, and it's too late already. The dime man shouts something. She can't quite distinguish his voice, as sounds of smokers blur his shouts. He hollers again, he's screaming profanities, she hears it now. Is he talking to her? She looks at him, he looks back. A penny finds it's way across the crowd, hits her smack in the eye. Tell him to stop, she tells his friend. That's no way to treat a woman. She nervously tries to ignore him, and starts groping in her bag, looking for her bike keys. The purse is too full, she's in a hurry. A phone falls out, it bounces on the sidewalk. As she tries to pick it up, bending over, more bursts out of the bag. A tampon, a pen, lipstick, her sunglasses, pocket change, the keys. She snatches them and grabs the dimes that were thrown at her in the process, unaware, distracted. No one notices her as she scrambles on the floor, the crowd continues smoking, smooching, smouldering cigarettes, smiling. But she doesn't smile as she gets up. The men are still there, they gather around her, she starts walking to her bicycle. Parked right in front of the club, it's rusty body leans against a pole, waiting to go home.
Where are we going, they ask again. Listen boys, I'm going home. Keys in hand, she leans over the bike. The third one taps her on the shoulder and points to a tarrying taxicab. Let's go, he gestures, slyly grinning, baring one gold tooth. He is small, stout. The smell of cheap cologne finds it's way to her nose. It itches. The lock is as rusty as the bike it holds, and the key protests silently. She wriggles it in vain, as the one in black approaches. There are no more dimes. He stands still in front of her, urges her to stand up straight, as he points his finger directly in her face. Tell him to go away, she whispers to the friend, voice trembling. You know what we're doing? You're coming with us, the one in black shouts. She leans back, but he is too close. I'm going to fuck you long and hard in the ass, you whore! Her eyes widen, she snaps. Before she knows it, her hand flashes, and with a swift but deliberate gesture she streaks him across the face,
SMACK
For a moment everything falls silent.
But he reacts fast.
His left fist pulls back, and he moves his whole body. With a loud thump, it lands on her right eye, forcing her body off balance. The smokers stop smoking, she falls to the ground, sobs. The man screams she hit me first, she hit me first, she hit me first, she hit me first. Large men in shimmering jackets step out of nowhere and hold him down. The bouncers. He tries to escape, his face fiery red, his eyes flaming, his fists clenched. She is bleeding, a golden ring cut it's way through her flesh, throbbing cheeks, she cries. A man grabs her shoulders. Can you walk, let's get you out of here, which one was it, you want to call the police, are you alright, give me your hand, come on let's go, sit here, don't listen to him, we have him, you want water, what's your name, she can't hear him, he talks too much but his hands are big and the low voice soothing her, she sinks in a chair inside. The four large men still have their hold on him, his friends stand by. Hands in pocket, astounded, quiet, ashamed. One picks up the cigarette she dropped, covered in red lips, still smoking from the light he gave her.
As the sirens grow louder, he let's it fall back to the ground, stepping on it as if to hide the evidence. The police take him away, hollering, howling, piercing, and disregarded the key sits safely nestled in the lock as the bike waits, and waits, to go home. No one will ride it tonight.

High school reunion

2009-04-25T16:09:00.001-07:00

Oh, high school. I once asked a friend of mine from Indiana if American high schools were really like they are depicted in those cheerleader/quarterback movies. YES, he answered me, AND IT'S HELL. I can only imagine. Although mine was a bit preppy, when I look back on those days (especially the later years) I feel like I made some good friends and learned some good stuff. As for reunions, I haven't gone to any yet since I feel they're not gonna be shocking enough. When I go to a reunion, I don't want to know what college you go to, I want to know how many kids you got and what time has done to your face.

(hanging out with Kaas in the high school days when sitting on the street was always preferred to, you know, chairs)

So the reason why I am bringing this up is not because I am in a nostalgic mood (even though I pretty much always am) but because I came across an article about this girl who decided to send a stripper in her stead to her ten year high school reunion in Southern California, and made a movie out of it. The movie may never be shown because her former classmates are not giving permission, but the trailer is out and it's amazing. Going back to high school and doing something like this is probably something many people have dreamed about.
Here is the trailer:

And if you want to read more, click here for the article and here for an interesting commentary written on Jezebel.

Ass

2009-04-22T02:59:00.000-07:00

Girls on Mission Street have nice asses.

Head

2009-04-18T22:03:00.001-07:00

Ryan and I walked down Mission to have a burrito and check out some random dollar stores on the way to Four Barrel Coffee. It was crazy windy. We cut through Clarion alley to see the murals, and towards the end, I spotted a burnt pigs head in an exploded grocery bag. It nearly gave me a heart attack, especially since at first I somehow thought it was a human head.
After I walked back from the coffee shop (no more than fifteen minutes), the head was gone.

If I didn't have these pictures, I swear I would have thought I made the whole thing up.

I just now discovered this song.

2009-04-15T22:25:00.000-07:00

I was sitting at the bus stop and it made me cry. Okay it didn't, but almost.

Divine Fire

2009-04-13T15:04:00.000-07:00

The other day I watched My Fair Lady again. I kind of hate musicals (or at least the songs) but I love watching this movie for the costumes and the brilliant dialogue. Kaas gave me this movie when I left because of our favorite quote, belted out by main character Professor Henry Higgins, who basically plays the asshole. As he finds out he is losing Miss Doolittle, the grumpy professor proclaims:

'I can do without anybody. I have my own soul, my own spark of divine fire!'

This quote obviously lends itself to various situations and opportunities.
Anyway, last week I completed my sewing class at the Apparel Arts school. I decided I really want to know how to make clothes (dresses!) but in order to do so you need to know the basics obviously. Finishing the project first in class gave me a secret feeling of great triumph -probably the Aries in me- and in my head I kept hearing Henry Higgins singing: I did it! I said that I could do it and indeed I did!

Here is the purse that I made all by myself! It had pockets! Lining! Pleats!

25

2009-04-06T16:40:00.000-07:00

Last week I turned 25. Given the fact that this joyful occasion was to be celebrated in sunny California, I decided to throw a barbecue in the back yard. Food and drinks were abundant and the sun came out to party. And when I least expected it, out came the piñata. Growing up in Amsterdam, I was of course completely unfamiliar with this tradition, but luckily some of my friends are Mexican and brought out the little cardboard horse filled with candy, which I had to beat the shit out of. After it was done I could not stop laughing, and in the mean time everyone else stuffed their pockets with mini chocolate bars.
So much better that those stupid 'Celebrations' Ali B hands out back in the motherland!

Of course, I was filmed. Watch this video to see how it's (not) done. Unfortunately, as with beating a piñata, I don't know how to perform a simple task like rotating a video so you will have to twist your neck to see the action (which by the way is much better in High Definition.)

Thanks Adam!

Sitting at the dock of the bay

2009-03-31T23:16:00.000-07:00

Naomi and I went to Fisherman's Wharf and amongst all the tourist traps, we found a completely abandoned pier with a view of the Golden Gate bridge and the Bay, where we were able to drink some white wine without having to hide the little bottles with a brown paper bag. As we were enjoying the scenario, a seal swam up to us, just to say hi and do a few flips before he swam off again. It was a lovely day.

Cleaning the hell up

2009-03-04T23:35:00.000-08:00

Now that I live with five roommates, I have started to become the housewife of the bunch.
Yes, you read that right.
I, once jokingly called 'Messy Mees', am doing more cleaning than anyone in the household, from scrubbing the kitchen to doing hand wash to cooking fresh meals to organizing my shit. Not having a job may help. It's like everyday is one of those days when you try to avoid other responsibilities by cleaning house. Like when you have a paper to hand in, or when you have to study for a midterm, and you suddenly develop a very detailed interest in cleaning every damn corner of the stove. Plus, this house has so much dust I just want to mop every bit of it but it's quite big, so it kind of became a larger project.
Also, I have found someone who is my mess making equivalent, my close friend and roommate Karina. Since she was recently fired/laid off, we decided to clear out her work room, next to the kitchen.

The floor was gross.

The table wasn't positioned right.

I've always hated those hanging things.

We moved everything in the kitchen and nobody was able to cook all day.

But the result was so refreshing!

Karina sorted every tiny little sewing tool around.

And now there's space to work!

It felt like I was cleaning my own head along with that room. And now, back to getting my own life in order. Get on it, miss List!

The Castro Theatre

2009-02-20T11:09:00.001-08:00

San Francisco, gay capital of the United States, home of marines who were thrown out of the army for their sexuality and never returned to their mothers and fathers! When I decided to move here, my professor (who also happens to be the head of Gay and Lesbian studies at the University of Amsterdam) said the climate in SF wasn't very good. I replied: 'I guess Los Angeles weather is warmer!' But apparently he was talking about the sexual climate. For people from Amsterdam, where there is at least an idea of complete gay tolerance (even though I still feel there are quite some problems there still) San Francisco is probably not very innovating. But for the rest of the U.S., it certainly still is.
Last Tuesday I finally went to see 'Milk'. I had wanted to see it earlier, but it only played in the Castro Theatre for a week or two, and I missed it. Somehow it seems like the only place to see this movie, when you live in this city. So, as I sat on the 24 bus on my way home from the spa, I spotted that the Castro Theatre had decided by popular demand, to return it to the screen for two more weeks.
I took my friends Femke and the Experimental Jetset there for a real San Francisco experience, and it was absolutely wonderful. I had never been to this theater and it reminds me in a way of the Tuschinski, mainly for being so old. Tuschinski is much more in the style of the twenties, whereas the Castro is built in baroque style. As we sat down, an old man started playing the organ, while pictures of the old Castro days were being shown. It was a strange feeling, watching a movie while sitting in a theater which is in almost every shot. And by the end we were all in tears. I really feel that had this movie come out a few months earlier, we might have been able to stop Proposition 8. But it gives us hope for the future. Now let's hope Sean wins an Oscar for his role as Hervey Milk this next Sunday!

Here's a grainy picture of the old man playing:

Here is a great NY Times review for the film.

I'm sorry

2009-02-11T20:53:00.000-08:00

I will be back soon. I promise.

I won't complain

2009-01-24T22:02:00.000-08:00

Stevie Wonder is blind. He has forty-two albums to his name, of which some are compilation albums. I have them all, now. It's almost too much to deal with. Maybe I should dedicate the entire month of February to Stevie and listen to one album a day. I could prepare in the remaining week of January with some compilations, or maybe a snippet of the Christmas album. I don't think I can stand listening to a Christmas album for an entire day having suffered through the holiday season in the States.
Stevie Wonder is pretty much the only man I really know who is blind. For some reason, when I listen to his music, it makes me think what some things must be like for Stevie. Like the concept of being black without being able to see the difference in people's skin tone. Or how he sees his wife and children. Or what it feels like to be left on a stage without anyone being able to guide you to the back during an award show. Things a blind person deals with that I don't take the time to dwell on normally. Things Stevie deals with all the times. It gives me more compassion for him than any other artist, without trying to say I pity him of course. No way to pity Stevie.
I took a class on the senses last year and the age old question arose again: would you rather be deaf or blind? I love seeing colors, landscapes, people interact, different shades of light, and I also very much like to see traffic when I ride a bike, or all of the steps on the stairwell. But if I were to be deaf, I would never be able to dedicate an entire month to a musical genius, his voice, and how he plays the keys.

So, to bless the fact that we don't need to make this horrendous choice, a video of the good man singing at his friend's funeral. And take the lyrics to heart.

One half hour

2009-01-19T22:55:00.000-08:00

Today, as I changed over from the BART to the Muni at Civic Center, I put my headphones on and pressed play. The Allman Brothers Band began their live version of the Mountain Jam, 33 minutes and 41 seconds of instrumental jamming recorded at the Fillmore East in February, 1970.
I stood on the platform waiting for the N-Judah to roll into the station, and was quickly joined by quite the character. I had seen him before on the train, and it's hard to miss him. This guy is super tall with long blond hair but the most striking thing is that he wears protective shields all over his body, and a long green cape. The shields, from knee caps to shoulder pads to elbow protectors make him look big and muscled, and the combination with a cape makes him look like a warrior from outer space. I may have been influenced by watching the Lord of the Rings trilogy yesterday but in stead of being put off by what most people would think of as a complete nut, I felt drawn to his appearance. Subtly, without trying to catch his eye, I tried to read what the tattoo on his left cheek said. As a train arrived, I thought I heard it was the K, and the warrior boarded it. As he turned around he looked me right in the eye, gave me a faint smile. The tattoo read 'VERITAS' and I noticed a crucifix drawn above his right eyebrow.
It took me a minute to realize that it was actually my train that he had gotten on. The next one would be twenty minutes.
I continued waiting, and listening to the guitar and organ and drum solos in my ear. Small thoughts crossed my mind, like how I felt my jeans slowly creeping south and that I really need to buy a belt. Or what time the Obama inauguration might start tomorrow. Or what the concert hall looked like at that specific concert in February 1970. As the jam continued I drew deeper into the sounds, but I kept being disturbed by a homeless guy asking me for money for food (I had none). You know how when you stand around for a long time they just keep asking you, probably because their memory is nonexistent or they think maybe you'll change your mind or I don't know what it is. There are many many many homeless and drug addicted people in this city and even my big headphones are no way of stopping them continuously asking me for a cigarette or money. If they keep it up they may be responsible for me smoking a lot less, seeing how the street is the only place where you are allowed to smoke and I get really tired blowing people off all the damn time. Anyway, the poor guy was coughing his lungs out and I started thinking he may have really been asking for money for food. It's a good thing I had so much time on the platform. All of a sudden I remembered. In my bag was almost an entire hamburger. I ordered it in Berkeley with a friend but it was so greasy I couldn't even eat a quarter of it. Somehow they convinced me to bring it in a doggy bag, even though I knew I probably would put it in the fridge until I would have to throw it out a few days later. This time it was me who approached the man and carefully handed him the hamburger. He was really happy, and held it in his hand as he boarded his train. I hope he likes sauteed mushrooms and artichoke on his burgers.
I was home thirty minutes later than I could have been. It was another sunny day in California and tomorrow we welcome a new day. I am in no rush.

What twenty bucks buy you at..

2009-01-16T16:24:00.000-08:00

The Chinese shop:

4 cucumbers
1 grapefruit
2 cans of tomato sauce
1 red pepper
1 green pepper
1 tofu
1 piece of butter
2 red onions
4 potatoes
1 big bag of strawberries
1 lemon
1 orange
2 roma tomatoes
1 bushel of fresh rosemary
0,790 lbs of feta cheese

The Cheese shop:

1 piece of Old Amsterdam aged cheese.

Miktor & Molf

2009-01-14T20:27:00.001-08:00

I visited Miktor & Molf a few times when they still had their studio in a trailer in a warehouse. I would bring beer and cigarettes and licorice and once, the Hitkrant. Most of the time I would just sit there and read a bit and bum smokes from Matthijs or the other way around. Sometimes they took off their shirts for mysterious reasons, sometimes they fought, sometimes I would get my skateboarding lesson but they did most of it, not me. And I guess sometimes they work. They are getting their shit together and showing their stuff at places like Sid Lee Collective (of which I have absolutely no clue what it is) and SPRMRKT (some clothing store). Way to go boys, way to go.

Miktor & Molf come up with the funniest titles for things ever.
Miktor & Molf love me, and I love them too.

It's that time again

2009-01-13T18:16:00.000-08:00

By Stephane Kaas 2008

I just can't help myself. For as long as I can remember I have gigantic piles of clothing everywhere. Hard to imagine I worked in an organized clothing store for years. Maybe that's kind of the equivalent of cooks never making themselves dinner at home. Who knows.

Dune

2009-01-08T17:33:00.001-08:00

I was quietly browsing craigslist for cars and jobs, when I heard the front door open and voices speaking in Spanish. I keep getting caught off guard by the fact that we have two cleaning ladies. They both listen to the name Maria and they come once a month on Thursdays. Having maids really weirds me out. It's understandable from my roommates point of view, she works all the time and she has the means to hire them. I on the other hand, am seemingly always at home in sweats when they come in. The last time they were here I was so intimidated that I didn't dare ask if I could use the bathroom (because they were cleaning in there) so I sat in bed 'till they were finished, by which time my teeth were floating.
This time I wisely decided to flee the house and bike over to the beach. Biking down there is easy. It's twenty blocks downhill and it was a beautiful day. The waves of the Pacific get pretty intense and I found my little spot on a dune where I can just sit and stare at the water for hours. I made a promise to myself to go down here more often while I still live in the Sunset. It's so close and so nice. If I had to live anywhere outside of the city I am positive it would be in the dunes. Proximity to water and forest (if you're lucky) makes it smell really good and the sunsets are truly marvelous. If you're on a west coast, anyway.
While I was sitting on my dune I read a little in the book my father gave me for Christmas, selected letters from Neal Cassady. A great book for anyone with a fascination for the Beat Generation, like me!
After a gruesome bike ride uphill back home, I find my room cleaned and the Maria's made my bed. I think they even sort of organized my bedside table. Wow.
I need a shower.

I wonder what happened to Nicole Wray

2009-01-03T18:23:00.000-08:00

I have a professed love for R&B music. Not only the R&B that Ike Turner used to make, but also the later kind. I guess my little last.fm chart over here on the site makes it pretty clear.
I don't share this love with many of my friends. Most of them listen to cool obscure music and classic oldies or you know, anything not produced by Timbaland or Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis.. (That means you, Femke!)
With a lot of spare time, a new MacBook and finally figuring out how to use a torrent program, my love for this music is blowing up even more. People have ready made collections like '100 Best R&B and HipHop Songs of the 90's' and I spend my evenings like a teenager listening to Mary J Blige in my room on my headphones while dancing and singing along with no sound. At least I don't use my hairbrush as a microphone and having an airbed prevents me from jumping on the bed, so it's not thát bad.

Anyway. If any of you have a secret urge to listen to some classics, download this mix by Sotu the Traveller. It has Mark Morrisson, Ginuwine, Keath Sweat, and Jodeci among others. And if anyone gives you shit for it, remember he's a part of Appletree Records. That'll give you some credit.

I leave you with one of my favorites. Mazzel!

P.S. Don't download the new Beyonce album(s)! It SUCKS.

Banged up

2008-12-31T15:48:00.000-08:00

First thing I did with three of my twenty combs: cut my bangs:

I get that mood every once in a while. Except, I keep forgetting how biking can fuck up this hairdo. And of course, today is the day I got a new bike. This time it's the perfect one.

But I sure look like a wreck.

Time to dress up and head back in to the city for new years eve. By tram.
Happy New Year people, Happy New Year.

But they sure are pretty.

2008-12-30T16:36:00.000-08:00

Today I went to buy a comb. At the Walgreens, the cheapest comb was still two dollars more than this set of twenty. I was totally lured into consumer overkill.
What the hell am I going to do with twenty combs?

Marvelous List

2008-12-29T20:15:00.000-08:00

Now I know everyone says: Oh forget it Cunningham, there's no gentlemen anymore. Take off the gloves and let's have a fight.

I like reading the NY Times, even though it has shown itself to be a pretty snobbish newspaper. Now I don't mean to get all Sarah Palin on you guys, but it is really elitist. In times of economic repression they report on how to have dinner for under a hundred dollars (oh no!), or how to have personal shoppers come to your mansion so people don't have to see you spend extravagant amounts of cash on clothing as the masses suffer and are reduced to window shopping.
But there is one feature in the Style section that I absolutely adore. It is photographer Bill Cunningham's street style report. Put together as a slide show, he narrates along with the pictures. He seems to be the originator of fashion street photography long before the blogs started popping up, having worked for the Times since 1966 and navigating himself through the city only on his bicycle.
I particularly love listening to that old crackling voice exclaim about small details he points out to us, and his overuse of the word 'marvelous'. I love that word. Marvelous. If I could I'd name my son Marvelous.

Here is an episode I loved, where he goes on the streets and finds what he calls the Mark of a Gentleman.
It's an older one from about a month ago, but please take the time to press on the link, it will only take two minutes out of your life and you can thank me later.

Geo Storm

2008-12-27T19:10:00.000-08:00

I was in Florida hanging out with grandma and uncle John.
I will write again soon. For now, the proof that I am actually learning to drive.

Check out that 1990 Geo Storm!
Also, listen to my soundtrack. Yeah.

Only in America

2008-12-17T18:04:00.001-08:00

Rich people get to be really eccentric and toy around like little kids, because their money can make all kinds of crazy shit happen for real. I got to see one of the funniest examples of this today with my own two eyes.
In the lovely Presidio Park, right next to the Golden Gate Bridge, lies Lucasfilm. Industrial Light and Magic, a company owned by George Lucas and part of Lucasfilm, apparently touches just about any film made in Hollywood before it makes its way into the universe with their visual and audio effects. Even though the Presidio is a public park, George Lucas spent over 300 million dollars to obtain an extensive residential lease from the government and built his company buildings right in the park a few years ago. I went to take a look today. Unfortunately, I was not allowed to take any pictures inside the office. They made me sign a release (digitally, they made me a part of the system, man) that I would not tell anything that happened inside or take any pictures.

Luckily, the sun was shining and I could take some pictures of the surroundings.

Behind the office buildings, there runs a creek. It's lovely, even though it looks a bit planted. I took a closer look and found this pole next to a little bridge crossing the water:

Can you believe that? Here's the story: the entire thing is a fake. Good ol' George decided that he didn't want artificial rocks by his creek because it would look like Disneyland and everything. So what did they do? They bought a creek from Marin County. They numbered every single fucking rock in the creek. They noted how it swirled. Then they moved the entire thing and planted it in the back yard.
That's right. This pole made me wonder, also, what the emergeny could be where a creek would need to be shut off?

There is also a Yoda fountain by the way. Very relaxing.

For more on me and my George Lucas adventures, keep an eye on Monobrow. Dutch readers only..

More please!

2008-12-15T02:02:00.000-08:00

I added a link section.
Please let me know your websites, so I can add them.
Or anything you like, I can always use more distractions on the world wide web than the same three sites.
Thank you.

Fifties find

2008-12-10T22:58:00.001-08:00

Not exactly the California Drivers License Handbook I set out to buy. But it's so shimmery!
The girls at Laura Dols would be so proud of me finding this for twenty bucks.

And to think I always thought I would do well in those spelling contests

2008-12-09T19:57:00.000-08:00

I absolutely, beyond any doubt, categorically, clearly, decidedly, doubtlessly, explicitly, indubitably, no ifs ands or buts about it, obviously, plainly, positively, specifically, surely, undeniably, unequivocally, unmistakably, unquestionably, without doubt, without fail, without question have a hard time trying to spell that damn word. Every time.

DEFINITELY.

But apparently, I am not the only one struggling.

www.d-e-f-i-n-i-t-e-l-y.com

Sheesh!

My friend Maartje

2008-12-09T00:24:00.000-08:00

Maartje and I, we like to go swimming.
Maartje and I lived on the same street, and I would pick her up and together we biked to the outdoor pool, rain or shine. Not particularly on a regular basis, just rain or shine. You know swimming is even better when it's not that great weather because there are less people wanting to jump the water right in front of you, and the pool doesn't feel like a gridlocked highway. It gives you plenty of space to swim next to each other and catch up on gossip like two old ladies, or talk about the more serious side of life.

Here, we were obviously not talking about the more serious side of life.

On September 14th, a nice autumn day two weeks after our outdoor pool closed down for winter, Maartje and I decided to go swimming in the North Sea. Drove up to Wijk aan Zee, walked down the beach, and even though it was sunny out, people were wearing coats and scarves. Not us. We stripped down and acted like it was midsummer. Look!

And what happened? We swam and swam and it was dead cold and we swam some more, and then someone whistled. A wave had soaked our bags. Our clothes: soaked. Maartjes phone: ruined. The newspaper: dripping with water and sand. But a few things were saved: Good spirits, and my grandmothers camera.

When we drove home in nothing but swimsuits and wet tops (thank God we didn't come by train) I realized I was going to have to walk out of the car in this outfit with a terrace full of people right next to my house.
Actually, I don't think anyone even noticed.

Maartje is in Buenos Aires right now, and I am in San Francisco. But mark my words.
We will go swimming again.

Cheers!

Pepernoten

2008-12-04T19:16:00.000-08:00

Tomorrow is Sinterklaas. I don't actually really even like to celebrate this holiday. It includes spoiled children, nasty poems, surprises with gook and paper maché, and a national excuse to celebrate slavery.
But, I have the newfound identity of an expatriate, so I felt the urge to go Dutch. Real Dutch.
I decided to bake pepernoten, the tradition sweets that come with the festivities. You know, Saint Nic's slaves hand them out.
Now I haven't baked a real anything since, say, 1996. I didn't have an oven for the larger part of my life and I don't have a sweet tooth. I looked up the recipe on the internet, and set myself to work.
Here goes.

I started out real neat om my batches, making them really orderly. And cute, might I add.

It failed pretty miserably. The were flat, uncooked or overcooked, and altogether gross.

My second batch went extremely well, after I had googled 'cookies too flat' and got some advice from my fellow online housewives. Too bad they didn't tell me to cut down on the baking paper, which decided to set afire in the oven, making me slightly panic, and having to throw my second, perfect, batch in the sink.

But you live you learn, and as we speak I have made batch after batch of pepernoten, to hand out tomorrow to anyone who will eat them.

I was so ridiculously happy I made it work, I did a little dance for you guys.

Hahaha!

So, who wants some?

Biking under influence

2008-12-04T01:07:00.000-08:00

Transportation in this city scares the shit out of me. Not the BART. The Bay Area Rapid Transport is just fine with me. But the rest..
Whenever I am in a foreign place, I act all cool in public, especially if I am on my own. It kills me when someone asks me for directions. This means, I have done a successful job at 'going native' (a term us anthropologists like to throw around casually). I feel right at home on the L train in Brooklyn, the Erasmuslijn in Rotterdam, the RER in Paris and the N Judah line I take everyday, right here in the beautiful city of San Francisco. That said, I am going to be a little more honest with you guys. I may look as calm as ever riding the night bus in the middle of the night, sitting there all squeezed between drunks and bums, trying to read my book. But it freaks me out.
It all started when I rode my bike over to a party, and everyone was all shocked that I rode 45 minutes in heels ánd was planning on making the same trip on the way home. This is completely normal to me, but when they started telling me about the tickets they hand out for biking drunk (BUI's!) it made me think. Maybe I should just take the bus. They go all night anyway, stop in front of my house, and cost a buck fifty.
So, there I was, all waiting for the bus in the Mission, getting on, having a nice conversation with some hobo. We were fine up until then. Then, came the stopover on Market Street. Now Market Street may be downtown but right along Civic Centre, it gets all sketchy. So my conversations became conversations with pimps and beggars (mostly me saying 'no' to every question and ignoring the rest). On the bus, I was the only woman. A guy with no teeth tried flirting with me. I got through two chapters of my new book, before I arrived in my safe, residential and Chinese neighbourhood.
Next time, I decided I wasn't going to be as cheap, and took a cab. The first cab wouldn't drive me to Sunset. The second one did, as long as I didn't pay with a creditcard. While driving, he turned up the fucking house music (international taxidriver vice?) and I realized I had a camera pointing straight at my face. Who the hell films that? They should film the drivers.
I can not wait to get a decent bike and ride my bike home again. BUI shmiyoueye.

By the way, I found some interesting and quite different modes of transportation as well. Check it out:

Slides instead of stairs in the Google office makes working so much more fun and creative! And at the end of the slide you can play some Wii! Sit in the massage chair! Drink some free soda! Fun! Creative! Work!

Sofa's on elevators are just so classy. They made me want to ride this one for hours, but they wouldn't let me.

Homesick

2008-12-02T04:37:00.000-08:00

Sometimes you stumble upon a windmill next to the Pacific and it makes you think of sunny days and a sweet glass of Zotte at the Ij brewery.. Except there are no palm trees around the Mauritskade!

On beyond Zebra

2008-11-25T14:27:00.000-08:00

Said Conrad Cornelius o'Donald o'Dell,
My very young friend who is learning to spell:
The A is for Ape and the B is for Bear.
The C is for Camel and the H is for Hare.
The M is for Mouse and the R is for Rat.
I know all 26 letters like that ……..

Through to Z is for Zebra, I know them all well.
Said Conrad Cornelius o'Donald o'Dell.

So now I know everything anyone knows.
From beginning to end, from the start to the close.
Because Z is as far as the alphabet goes.

Then he almost fell flat on his face on the floor
When I picked up the chalk and drew one letter more !
A letter he never had dreamed of before !

And I said, You can stop, if you want, with the Z
Because most people stop with the Z
But not me !

In the places I go there are things that I see
That I never could spell if I stopped with the Z.
I'm telling you this, cause you're one of my friends
My alphabet starts where your alphabet ends !

-DR SEUSS-

Robert Wharton List

2008-11-20T20:22:00.001-08:00

Don't miss the late night special!

This and next weekend in Frascati. Click on the image to enlarge.

"Make sure that you have exhausted everything that you can communicate by motionlessness and silence."
- Robert Bresson
Notes sur le
Cinématographe, 1975

Allright allright

2008-11-16T16:05:00.000-08:00

So it became like any other diary I have ever had. Start out positive, end up never writing again after five days. But we are here to break bad habits.

A lot has happened over the last few weeks. We had Halloween, I went to Los Angeles for a week, Obama was elected president (and I cried over the acceptance speech), and I found a nice place to live.

Next goals: find a job, a better bike, learn how to drive.

In the meantime, some pictures to illustrate.

New room...

I live in the Sunset area now. As you may or may not know, San Francisco has several microclimates. I live in the misty one. But, lucky enough, it has been really sunny and warm these last few days. I had never expected this weather, as someone sort of told me SF would be like Amsterdam, weather wise. Now I can tell you for sure that it has never been 25 degrees celcius in November back home.
This week, as I was exploring my new neighbourhood, I decided to go to the beach. The beach is about twenty five blocks from here, which is sort of walking distance or really short tram distance. There is only one way to go: straigh ahead, till you hit the water, it's incredible. So, I live by the beach. And by the Golden Gate park, that's tomorrows excursion.

Me, and the road to the ocean..

Halloween with Bryant and Andrea.

Laura Dols, Martien and me, driving around with evening gowns in the city of angels..

So. If anyone needs me, my NEW contact information is:
1433 23rd Avenue
San Francisco CA, 94122
1 (415) 577 4048
skype: avamees

Back in the summer of 2007

2008-10-30T21:39:00.000-07:00

While cleaning my house, I found an old disposable camera. I had no idea what pictures would be on there, but I took a quick snapshot of the mess that was my house at that point, and decided to bring the camera here to develop. I didnt have time before.

Turned out something must have happened to the film, everyone in the picture is superyellow.

Here's a few weird shots:

My house in utter chaos. At least there was toiletpaper.

Rufus cycling with two bikes. No idea why.

Marijke's house where I stayed in Rotterdam has a particularly good vibe.

And so do Roel and I. Yellow and all.

You know, when Vice Magazine was still in my life. And so were those damn white russians.

Worst Supermarket Trip Ever

2008-10-29T19:01:00.000-07:00

At Andronico's, the local overpriced semi-organic hipster supermarket, olives are superexpensive. And, for some reason, so is orange juice.
At the checkout counter, the girl (who must have been at least several years yourger) wouldn't let me buy Corona's because I didn't have a proper ID ( I AM TWENTY FOUR, come on!!), and now that I got home I remember I forgot toiletpaper.

Dammit!

Corneille on Cedar Street

2008-10-28T23:31:00.000-07:00

So I bought a bike. A rusty, thirty year old, brown bicycle.
North Berkeley -where I am residing at the moment- looks as close to a real American suburb as I've ever been. Front yards, back yards, cars in the front and Vote Obama signs everywhere. Thank god.
Right on the corner of my street, there is a small store. The entire outside of the building is painted white with blue lines, sprayed to look like clouds. Before I walked in I had no idea of the kind of store it was, but walking in made it pretty clear. The entire place was stuffed to the max with old guitars, music posters, and guitar cases on one wall. I walked in because a sign outside said 'Used bikes $50. Peddle, or you'll have to paddle!'. Apparently I hadn't even taken the time to read the fine print on the sign. The bikes were not actually sold in store, but by the owner, who was not in town. Try again tomorrow.
I walked in the next day, introduce myself to the owner, who by this time had already given me a call about my inquiry on bicycles. Whereas my name may be the equivalent of a mean pepperspray, this guy was named Fat Dog. Nice. Anyway, so we found out within minutes that I am staying with an old friend of his down the street, and that he has been to Amsterdam many times. He even had a November 2008 poster from the Bimhuis on the ceiling of his store. How weird!
An hour later, I had visited his house. The garden was the equivalent of a junkyard, and in the back was Rico. Missing several teeth, this friendly guy fixes up bikes from parts and lives in the garage. Inside the house I admired several paintings from Amsterdam (Fabrice, Corneille) and Fat Dog had told me about his summers in Holland, in a so called 'hippie sandwich' between what he called my Dutch sisters. Thanks. Aunts probably would have been a more appropriate name, dude.
But. I bought myself a bike, I only paid half up front, and Fat Dog was friendly enough to drive me into town to buy a lock.

Here she is!

And here's a link to the quirky store down the block...

New Home in the Hills

2008-10-23T16:30:00.000-07:00

Dearest All.

I have no internet access, or almost none. A friendly guy at the Apple Store let me use the huge iMac and I have just barely enough time to post a little something.

The first few days are extremely sunny and warm, as I scope the town. I will be buying a bike soon since walking is way too slow in my idea.

As for social life, I have been hanging out with the Lazer Swords and Guillaume and Zwaantje, who are coincidentally on holiday in the Bay Area.

Also, I forgot how to speak Dutch, so this blog will be in English.

Yeah!

xxxx

RE: Feest!!!

2008-10-13T08:13:00.000-07:00

Maartje van Nimwegen wrote:
Lieverds,
Ben natuurlijk geen lid van jullie boekenclub,
maar ik zal Mees best wel missen als ze in
het verre land is.

Nu is het zo dat ik sinds kort een mega eet-
tafel en super super large bank heb. Zullen
we misschien voordat die griet weg gaat een
klein feestje bij mij houden. Voor Mees.

Gewoon misschien met lekkere happies en
weet ik veel, porno film kijken ofzo?

Laat weten wat jullie daarvan vinden. Als jullie
zelf al met de boekenclub iets hebben dan ga
ik met Mees wel samen eten.

Ik hoor het wel.
Kussen voor jullie!

Femke // My Little Underground wrote:
heya allemaal,
nou vrij toevallig (of niet) kwam ik woensdag ons aller eline tegen en toen hadden we ook al bekokstooft dat we iets moesten doen voor onze mees.
we hadden bedacht iets heel erg amsterdammerigs met een niet al te grote groep mensen.
we dachten aan
de meisjes van de laura
de jongens van vroeger (jonas, chris, kaas, ruben)
de antropologen (nikki... meer?)
de rotterdammers (rufus, roel)
het amsterdammerigst leek ons een rondvaartbootuitje. die dingen schijn je af te kunnen huren. bij rederij schmidtje kost dat met een man of 20 zo'n 30 euroos pp.
we kunnen ook fietstour doen? of gewoon lekker eten bij maartje maar of jij zin hebt in 30 man.
schiet u maar!

dd quick, ik heb het email adres van je meisje niet dus stuur effe door.

X

Mick Johan wrote:
Hey Dennis,
Femke en ik krijgen net dees van Maartje. Lijkt me een goeies.
Wat jullie?
x

Mick Johan

Dennis Duijnhouwer wrote:
een hit!!!!

Femke // My Little Underground wrote:
mensen, ik sprak net onze dame in kwestie en ze wil nog steeds een "vet, groot" feest met iedereen die ze kent..
kunnen we dat regelen?
of gaan we voor onderstaande plannen?
x

Mick Johan wrote:
Haaai,
Goed bezig allemaal! Ik denk dat we in principe alles kunnen regelen, toch?
Ik vind ook alles leuk, maar ik kan alleen niet fietsen..
Als we voor een groot feest gaan wordt dat de do-16e of de za-18e lijkt me (eerder is haast niet te doen en de 17e is er die andere belangrijke avond, haha.) Femke, jij zit in Parijs, vanaf wanneer? Dat is ook nog een ding.
Na ja, weet ik veel, ik heb er zin in.
x

Mick Johan.

Maartje van Nimwegen wrote:
Gabberfruits en Dennis, die ik nog niet ken,
maar wel weet over welke baardmans het gaat.

Een vet groot feest.... is natuurlijk wel het aller
aller gaafst. Volgens mij is er in dat weekend
waar jij het over hebt, kreupelen karel, ook het
laatste timboektoe feest. Is dat niet leuk, om
idereen te zeggen daarheen te komen?

Dan zijn er geen problemen qua locatie en zijn
er waarschijnlijk ook heel veel leukies en een
lekker pittig plaatje van muziek.

Zeggen jullie het.
Bij mij in huis 30 mensen mag ook, maar dan moet
iemand die goed ter been is helpen met opruimen
en er mag niemand een brandgat in mijn nieuwe
vet absurde grootheids bank maken.
Dikke kxs.

Femke // My Little Underground wrote:
Koekieloekies,
Ik sprak gister een delegatie Laura Dollsers en die zijn ook game wat betreft een feessie voor meessie. Ze mailen mij vandaag al hun contact gegevens en zo wordt deze mailinglijst steeds groter.
Volgens mij is donderdag 16 oktober de beste dag omdat iedereen dan kan, wil en er geen andere grote dingen zijn.
Nu nog een location, location, location. Ik ga even rondvragen vandaag!

Meer nieuws volgt snel!
Kus

Dennis Duijnhouwer wrote:
Ok, 16 okt lijkt me een goeie.
En ik ben overal voor in, waterfietsen, koekhappen, plompzakken.
Ok, misschien niet plompzakken, maar jullie snappen wat ik bedoel.
Laat maar weten als ik iets kan doen!

X

Dennis Duijnhouwer

Maartje van Nimwegen wrote:
Hahaha, plompzakkend koekhappen!!
Wow, wat een festijn.

Mick Johan wrote:
Ik wil graag gewoon ordinair zuipen.
Kan dat ook? In the spirit of Mees?
Hahaha.
x

Mick Johan.

Femke // My Little Underground wrote:
eerst plompzakken, dan fierljeppen, vervolgens koekhappen en dan comazuipen.
komt goed mick "kijk mamma, drummen kan ook met 1 been " johan
xxx

Mick Johan wrote:
He fijn dat er altijd de geruststellende moeder-vogel is met de allerbeste oplossingen voor alles!
x

Mick Johan.

Dennis Duijnhouwer wrote:
Ik voel me wel een beetje schuldig dat we zoveel pret hebben, zonder medeweten van ons aller Mees...

Mees, als je ooit inbreekt in mn computer, dan zie je hoeveel we van je houden!

Femke // My Little Underground wrote:
Lieve vrienden van Mees!
We komen steeds meer bij elkaar; de meisjes van de Laura D sluiten zich ook al aan bij dit feestelijke ge-email!

Ik heb de Rotterdamse tak maar ook meteen op de cc gezet en de voormalige huisgenoot; jongens, we organiseren een afscheidsfeestje voor Mees!

Chris Dekker's email heb ik niet maar wel z'n myspace dus ik zal hem meteen ook om z'n adres vragen.

Vooralsnog staat het verrassingsfeest op 16 oktober.

We zoeken dus alleen nog naar een toffe locatie.

Graag allemaal suggesties in de email (denk eraan om reply all te doen, zodat iedereen kan meelezen)

Ik probeer nu:
Flexbar (mwah, maar ik ken de eigenaar)
Misschien is de urban 11 aka Canvas in het Volkskrant gebouw ook een goede? Jonas, jij hebt daar contacten toch?

Laten we proberen dit vandaag en morgen verder te regelen; dus vandaag nog alle suggesties in de mail en morgen de locaties bellen en afhuren.

jullie toegenegen
fem aka de mamma-vogel

> hoi Femke,
> bij deze een aantal e-mailadressen, in ieder geval de adressen die ik heb van Hannah en Merel
> buenting@gmail.com (Hannah)
> mereldehaan@gmail.com (Merel)
> m.huls3@chello.nl (dat ben ik dus, moge duidelijk zijn)
> ik ben helemaal voor een knalfuif om ons Meesje uit te zwaaien naar San Fransisco......ik sprak haar vandaag even en toen zei ze dat ze misschien toch zelf iets wil organiseren, ze zou daarbij hulp krijgen van Chris (Dekker), ken je hem? misschien handig om op de een of andere manier contact met hem te zoeken. ik heb vanmiddag natuurlijk wijselijk mijn mond gehouden tegen Mees over een evt verrassingsfeest.
> Heb je al concrete ideeen, en waar kunnen we je eventueel mee helpen??
> heel veel liefs, Martien

Jonas Kraft:
Count me in.
Ik kom zsm terug met details Canvas...
Kans is klein... contact is niet goed...

Ciao,
X,
Jonas

Rebecca Bego wrote:
Jeeh, goed idee!

Ik ben voor Canvas, hoewel ze natuurlijk wel haar verjaardag daar ook heeft gevierd, en heb meteen Bob en Chris even toegevoegd aan de immer groeiende email-lijst 'vrienden van Mees'.

En even afwachten wat Jonas te horen krijgt, dus...

X Rebecca

Rufus Ketting wrote:
Ik zal er zijn!
(en heb gelijk wat namen toegevoegd.)

ik neem aan dat de mannen voor de mannen zorgen
(lieden als Melle, Kaas, Bram, Gerrit…)
en dat iemand Rob toevoegt...

Femke // My Little Underground wrote:
Jonas, dat ding in Oost waar jullie toen ook jullie verjaardag vierden, op het pleintje. is dat anders wat?

Maartje van Nimwegen wrote:
He, maar hoe zit het met de nieuwe anita?
Dat vind ik altijd best een goeie plek, lekker
beetje gaar en ranzig.

Of studio k, ik weet niet hoe het er daar binen
uitziet ondanks dat ik de redacteur van vice er
een keer met zijn kop tegen de muur heb ge-
beukt!!! Kwaliteit dus!

Flex lijkt me niet zo'n goeie. Jou wel Fem?

Rufus Ketting Wrote:
nieuwe anita is in elk geval een 'gezelligere' plek dan de flexbar... dunkt mij

Rebecca Bego wrote:
(even Melle, Kaas en Nikki in de cc)

Dennis Duijnhouwer wrote:
Studio K, omdat het in Oost is, Canvas vind ik ook leuk, daar heb ik mn studio, nieuwe anita is leuk, maar n beetje ver weg voor ons Oosters...
Ik ben overal voor in!

Maartje van Nimwegen wrote:
Me dunkt!!
En er zitten wat oosters bij jongen.
Fem, aangzien jij nu toch een beetje
de main beslisser aan het worden
bent, als je hulp nodig hebt: ik woon
om de hoek en je hebt mijn nummer.
X

Mick Johan wrote:
Yeuy!
Nieuwe Anita vink ook een goeie.
Ik dacht ff aan de Volta, maar dat kan niet de 16e. Flex is kut en ver west, maar makkelijk staat boven kut met zo'n korte deadline en daarnaast is het natuurlijk een puik gezelschap waarmee we de tent overnemen. Studio K is niet echt party al is o-o-s-t inderdaad wel een goed idee (de vogels komen uit het Oosten). Is het Badhuis niet iets? Of gewoon onze zondag oosterpark koffiespot (kan ff nie op de naam komen)? Waar het allemaal begonnen is (insiders weten..).
Soit, ik heb verder weinig toe te voegen behalve dat ik er ZIN IN heb.
X
Mick Johan.

Maartje van Nimwegen wrote:
Gasten, ineens heb ik een brilliante ingeving.
Ik wilde daar een keer mijn verjaardag gaan vieren,
maar dit is misschien wel een hele goeie!! Ik
weet alleen niet precies hoe duur het is.

In het Loyd hotel, boven de eetzaal zit een kamer
(waar super large bedden in staan die je kan
omdraaien als soort podia) die geluidsdicht is.
Ik heb wel eens van iemand gehoord dat je met
een man of dertig een goed feest kan hebben
en die dude had ook een dj met zich mee genomen.

Is dat misschien super vet gaaf cool, mega omming
kickku gers?

Soooooooooooooo!

Dennis Duijnhouwer wrote:
Het Loyd hotel yes!
Kunnen we meteen een dresscode pimps/hookers invoeren, en een wagonlading foute drugs bestellen.
Of misschien slaat mn fantasie weer op hol...

Maartje van Nimwegen wrote:
Zoooo, ik krijg steeds meer zin gek.

Femke // My Little Underground wrote:
Duidelijk, zei de moeder kloek!
Ik ga even kijken wat zo'n grapje kost!
high five ouwetjes!

Maartje van Nimwegen wrote:
Bummer, net gebeld!!
Ze zitten vol voor die avond.
En zeiken nu al dat er geen feestje mag.
Het heet verdomme de muziek kamer.
Zeikwijfchicks!

Mick Johan wrote:
Oh. Gay.
Dit moeten we misschien even proberen..
Lijkt mij wel gaaf, en met zn 30en goed te doen al.
Wat joelie?

Pik Pohan.

Femke // My Little Underground wrote:
Chris Dekker is ook aan de feestcomissie toegevoegd.
Llyod is gay.
Die Villa is ook gay. je mag er maar een paar uur blijven.
Ik ga nog even andere Oosterse locaties checken als:
www.badhuistheater.nl/
en toch ook nog even studio K

Xf

Femke // My Little Underground wrote:
Mees amis,

En jawel we hebben weer iemand er bij; Lynn.
Ik heb wat rondgekeken naar locaties en was volop nog bezig toen Lynn met het volgende idee kwam:

"16 oktober draaien wij in de Bitterzoet waar we 100 mensen op de lijst mogen zetten.. Misschien een optie?
Misschien moeten we ook iets bedenken wat ze mee kan nemen van ons allemaal??
Als ik aan Mees denk dan denk ik aan lief, leuk, gezellig, maar vooral. PARTY!! (bigtime)
Misschien dat we iedereens meest getrashte, dronken, whatever partypic kunnen krijgen in hoge resolutie en daar op een soort Vice-achtige manier een magazine/boek van maken?? Of (makkelijker en goedkopere optie) een blogspot.com voor haar opzetten, waar zij haar SF-verhalen op kan vertellen, en waar wij van elke vriend van haar een getrashte partypic + klein verhaaltje hebben ?”

Wat we ook zouden kunnen doen is aan bas van de bitterzoet vragen of we de avond eerder mogen beginnen, namelijk om 8 of 9 uur en dan hebben we tent nog even voor onszelf. dan kunnen ook mensen die willen draaien (want mees wilde graag dat de muziek verzorgd zou worden door de diverse bevriende dj's).

schiet maar, of niet als u het er mee eens bent.

femke "ik sta nooit dronken op de foto" dekker

PS: ik ben vanaf morgen een paar dagen naar parijs, zondag weer terug. dus bij deze benoem ik maartje als plaastvervangende moederkloek voor het nemen van belangrijke beslissingen.

Maartje van Nimwegen wrote:
Kijk, is toch een prima optie!

Gewoon lekker prima, het lijkt me dan inderdaad heel slim
om ook echt veel mensen uit te nodigen en om tien uur
daar te zijn. Mees daarheen halen en dat iedereen al binnen
staat. Lijkt me helemaal goed, niks meer aan doen, bam!
Er is warrschijnlijk toch nog geen andere kip daar rond die
tijd neem ik zo aan.

Misschien is er nog geen vj persoon voor die avond en
kunnen we de hele avond die foto's projecteren. Gewoon,
dat ene. Met van die platen.

Hup, laten we een digitale uitnodiging maken zodat iedereen
uitgenodigd kan worden en dit gewoon doen!
X

Maartje van Nimwegen wrote:
Miktor En Molf kunnen volgens mij heel goed
een crazy digitale Mees uitnodiging maken?
Yessie, met piemels en tieten!

Mick Johan wrote:
Ja of Rufus K. Die kan hele sjiekes maken, dat doen ik nie. Is misschien iets Meesterder?
Ik weet niet. Rufus, hebbie daar tijd voor?
X

Lynn Koppen wrote:
Ha!

En ik kom dus net terug van een lunch met Mevrouw List. Toevallig kwam het zo ter sprake dat ze donderdag 16 zelf ook had uitgekozen om een afscheidfeestje te doen... Misschien.... Ze weet alleen nog niet waar en ik heb geprobeerd om het een beetje de kleinschalige hoek in te pushen.. maar..: "Als ze het dan gaat doen, dan wil ze dus ook IE-DE-REEN uitnodigen" aldus Mees.
Ze klonk nog een beetje besluiteloos en eigenlijk heeft ze veel te veel belangrijke dingen aan haar hoofd om ook nog es een afscheidsfeestje te organiseren. Dus ik denk dat ze het van het laatste moment laat afhangen.
Als we voor de Bitterzoet gaan, dan moeten we haar maar in de waan laten dat mensen naar het door haar uitgekozen cafe gaan denk ik. Optie zou Struik kunnen zijn of Kriterion.

Wij draaien de bewuste avond met Confeteici in Bitterzoet. De laatste keer in club 8 heeft Mees met ons meegedraaid, dus zij hoort daar ook een beetje bij. Het is zeker een goede optie om iets eerder open te gaan en er tussen 21.00-23.00 een eigen feestje van te maken. Zou ik even kunnen overleggen met Bas en Koos (Promoter van de avond), maar lukt wel denk ik. Als wij draaien zorgen we altijd voor veeeel balonnen slingers en een tekst boven de de dj-booth.. Dat zou voor deze keer dan" Bye Bye Mees!" kunnen zijn oid.... (zie fotootjes)

Een cadeau schoot me ook nog te binnen tijdens onze lunch. Haar Ipod-beeldscherm is helemaal dr an, waardoor ze niet meer weet wat ze hoort en niet meer kan horen wat ze wil. Zou leuk zijn om haar een nieuwe te geven, met eventueel een lauwe tekst dr in gegraveerd, met al onze alltime favoriete liedjes drin voor in het vliegtuig. Denk dat ze daar wel blij mee zal zijn en hem zeker vaak zal gebruiken in SF op dr fietsie! + n blogspotje om d'r schrijftalent n beetje te pusten en alsof ze daar ook maar één seconde de tijd heeft om ons te missen....
Is allemaal wel goed te realiseren op korte termijn denk ik zo....

Maar goe. Dit zijn slechts enkele opties. De mogelijkheid voor de Bitter is er, maar wordt het wat anders, ook prima!!

Roept u maar!!
Liefs,
Lynn

Rufus Ketting wrote:
lieve schatten,

op dit moment ben ik heel erg druk (met heel leuk werk)
wat er helaas op neerkomt dat ik:
• vanavond al niet bij jonas' cd presentatie in OT301 kan zijn
• wel een flyer wil maken
• het daarbij moet houden

die blog moet je dus even met maartje appeltaartje in elkaar knallen
of iemand anders uit bovenstaande lijst met bovennatuurlijk veel gevoel
en verstand van vorm en ruimte
(wat leuk als je zo kan kiezen uit een hele lijst met mensen...)

oewhoooi!

Femke // My Little Underground wrote:
ik ben de køniging van het bloggen dus als maartje en ik maandag effe gaan zitten komt het goed.
ipod vind ik ook een te gek idee.
muziekjes kunnen naar mij en dan koop ik maandag wel een nieuwe nano voor onze mees.

donderdagavond kunnen we je wel helpen opbouwen hoor lynn. anders krijg je straks een appelflauwte van ballonnen blazen.

laura-ladies als jullie mees nou donderdagavond onder jullie hoede nemen en haar bewaken dan staan wij om 9 uur klaar in de bitter.

lynn, praat jij met bas zodat we eerder in de bz kunnen? moet ik er bij zijn? moet hem sowieso nog spreken over een nieuwe bz avond.

vogel, zo fijn dat je de flyert maakt! lukt dat dit weekend zodat we in het geheim iedereen kunnen uitnodigen?

ZIN IN!
X

Martien Huls wrote:
tralala....wat een fantastische stroom aan positieve berichten in mijn postvakje deze dagen! vind het allemaal helemaal goed!!!bitterzoet goed, tien euro goed, ipod goed, foto´s goed, donderdagavond goed, mees meesleuren onder valse voorwendselen is al helemaal goed! aangezien ik de roosters maak in de winkel kan ik wel een werksmoes verzinnen om haar tot negenen bij me in de buurt te houden, daarna komen we naar bitterzoet!!!!moet alleen nog een goede smoes verzinnen om haar zonder al teveel argwaan die kant op te krijgen aangezien onze borrels altijd plaatsvinden in cafe wheels of in ieder geval iets in de buurt van de winkel, maar daar verzin ik nog wel iets op....ik heb er erg veel zin in, en sleep alle laura dolsmeisjes met me mee!!!!
laat me weten als ik nog iets kan doen, veel liefs, tot donderdag, Martien

Maartje van Nimwegen wrote:
Goed, maandag, Fem, jij en ik. Bloggen!!!
Goed dat jij er queen in bent!

Rufus, scheet, de flyer van jou wordt natuurlijk
het chocolaatje op de taart! Als jij die inderdaad
in het weekend zou kunnen ontwikkelen dan kan
die misschien ook in de blog verwerkt, ja toch!!

Zin in!
Fem, hoe laat, waar?

Eline Cordie wrote:
Jongens jongens wat een feest... ik ben er donderdag met mijn heupfles vol cognac om de pijn des afscheids te verdrinken.
Ook zal ik geld naar Femke overmaken.

Misschien een idee om dit e-mailverkeer als eerste blog post te plaatsen.
Altijd lachen om te lezen hoe mensen in het geniep iets voor je gepland hebben...

Zin in!

X

Femke // My Little Underground wrote:
ja toch. wat een geniaal idee! en wat een liefde voor die kleine.
geld overmaken mag, cash mag ook. huilen mag ook. met of zonder cognac.

maart. maandag avond bij jou thuis? uurtje of 8?

Jonas Kraft wrote:
Ik zeg:
Lekker bezig!

Laat maar weten al ik nog wat moet doen...
J.

Rebecca Bego wrote:
Zelfde hier!

Gisteravond hebben trouwens rond de 20 mensen aan Mees gevraagd wanneer ze nou een feest gaat geven, en ze had het inderdaad over de 16e, maar ze had nog geen idee waar en lijkt ook niet heel actief bezig te zijn met plannen. En aangezien ze het nu al een half uur over haar 'kater from hell' heeft, denk ik ook niet dat ze er vandaag mee aan de slag gaat :)

Wat is het plan als ze zelf iets gaat regelen?

Rufus Ketting wrote:
mooi!

tussen twee haakjes, die flyer hoeft toch niet gedrukt, of toch?

Maartje van Nimwegen wrote:
Nee joh, gewoon digi flyer naar die friends.
Niet drukken denk ik.

Als iemand door krijgt dat ze zelf echt iets
gaat regelen, dus echt, met iets afhuren of
iets waar ze geld voor moet betalen dan zeggen
moet er iemand tegen haar zeggen dat dat niet
mag.

Als ze half zwak iets gaat regelen doen we
gewoon allemaal of we daarheen komen of dat
we er niet heen komen en dan neemt iemand
haar ineens mee naar het echte feest.

Zo, is dat een goeie?
X

Rufus Ketting wrote:
Is dit wat?
Zo ja, dan kunnen we gaan rondsturen
zo nee, dan ben ik hier maandag weer vanaf 9.30

x
Rufus

Femke // My Little Underground wrote:
Ja toch! We hebben een F. we hebben een L. We hebben een Y. We hebben een E. We hebben een R! We hebben een FEEST!

Dames en heren,
Dit is de flyer voor donderdagavond. Stuur hem vooral door naar iedereen van wie je denkt dat ze er bij moeten zijn.
Laat de mensen die je uitnodigd wel even een rsvp naar mij sturen, want die moeten namelijk allemaal op de gastenlijst bij de Bitterzoet!

Stuur mij ook nog even een liedje voor op het cadeau!

En last but not least, hadden we (voor al uw bruiloften en partijen) bedacht dat het heel erg leuk zou zijn als iedereen in het rood, wit en/of blauw kon komen. Onze Mees verruilt natuurlijk onze prachtige driekleur voor de rood, wit blauwe stars & stripes, dus is die dresscode wel zo toepasselijk. Je mag natuurlijk ook gewoon in het groen of paars als je dat leuker vindt. Maar dan ben je wel een beetje een spelbreker (femke)/ gay (maartje).

Namens de feestcommissie
F