Antwerp and Bruises

I am a sweet woman. Full of compassion, strength, hope, forgiveness and to some lesser extent memory loss. It is indeed hard not to get along with me when I choose to display these finer qualities. However, some manage.

The family was in Antwerp, that’s me, my mother, and one older and one younger brother. And I think the trouble started when we got into an argument on the way to the car, continued through over an hour and a half of driving and concluded it on the hotel doorsteps. Course when I say concluded I didn’t mean we all said our bit were heard and were done with it. I mean someone had to address the hotel clerk and I seemed the logical choice. Now you must understand that for all the logic and love in the world and the patience I have learned my family has a hotkey tapped straight into my unconscious primeval rage and pissed-off-ness. One word out of their mouth and I am done for the day. For instance, my mother finds the oddest things rude. Asking for a second key for your hotel room ( a fucking swipe card for god’s sake), taking the bathroom shampoo ( I am Dutch, so sue me, it’s what we do), asking for another room after we find out –none- of the lights work in the first and the electrical socket is held together with duct tape…. Etc. Anyway, besides my older brother trying to choke me, my younger brother rolling his eyes at me and my mother in tears screaming over her hellion children it was a regular family holiday, with those things included it still was –our- typical family holiday. We went to the Zoo, the Diamond Museum, Cathedrals, some kind of Sail event and the Vogeltjesmarkt, which translates to birdie-market. They sell chickens and small rodents and birds. There is a lot of commentary on the way these animals are treated and because of that they are no longer allowed to sell cats and dogs there as well which they used to do. It was all as it was, nothing too interesting to note.

I came home in slight stress not knowing when my introduction days at school start and Roommate causing several bruises to my healed skin. I don’t know if I have mentioned this before but Roommate and I play rather rough. We’ll cuddle and hug for about a minute before one of us (always him) bites. Then the gloves go off and soon we’re rolling over the floor snarling and biting trying to get headlocks, smack down’s and victory in a brawling free for all. He loses when I get my knees on his arms and start licking his face, I lose when he gets me on my stomach and starts biting the skin in-between my shoulder blades, any other situation will have to have judges deciding. Not all of you can probably understand this as it’s nothing sexual at all but simply a standard competing for alpha male status while letting out pent up frustration. I know a lot of guys do this, the standard tussle and arm slapping match, I know very few girls and none really that supports my set of bruises come morning. Still, it works for us and keeps us from inflicting worse. (Not counting the time when he had me on my back and I was inching towards the stairs reckoning he’d have to let go when I got him there seeing as we would otherwise both plummet down the staircase. Thing is, he called my bluff and I called his and neither of us was bluffing. I all of a sudden found myself supported merely by a foot I had hooked between his waist and the banister and an arm on his shoulder. He found himself being almost dragged down holding on merely by one hand on the wall in front of him. After the giggling and tentive movements it was clear that if he moved I would die, and that I was vindictive enough not to die alone. I started cramping and knew I had only seconds left so in a desperate rescue mission of both our hides Kevin changed hands in a millisecond sticking the other down to grab my wrist as I was already plummeting down head first. I held on to his wrist and actually made a spin on the stairs watching my legs go past as I twisted out of harms way to land feet down on a step completely okay still holding to his wrist. We called a truce after that to regain composure.)

But I have gone on too long really and the SIMS2 awaits me after I conclude the last of the Achaea business I have to. For those of you that don’t know it, Achaea is a MUD game, so that means online texting with other people in a fantasy environment. I will talk about it more later, when I am not well… so lazy. I apologise for the scatterbrain composition of this text, better luck next time.