Looking at it this way. Why bingewatching is good to let off steam and generate success.

It’s been a while since followers of BGftBC have heard from you. 

Tell them what’s on your mind. 

Thank you Facebook for reminding me of my civil duties. As well as for reminding me of pictures I fed you ten years ago, where I was 1 year ago or what the last month of 2018 looked like. Thank you for being the assistant I never cared for.

Agree, this blog used to be a weekly engagement. I had a lot of stories to tell, about my life, about my adventures, about me, me, me, me.

But the fact you hear so little about ME, is actually a good thing. At least for -you guessed it- ME.

My blog almost went mute the day I moved to Berlin. I had some bigger plot lines to figure out, mainly how I would reboot my life and face the obstacles that would come along with it. I allowed myself to not feel pressured by the outside world. Even though I was putting tremendous pressure on myself.

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I didn’t feel like writing about ‘me’ too much anymore. I soon found other outlets. For starters: I gave dating a go and I met someone. This person became my diary of trust. The one who I can always turn to with all my joy, questions, uncertainties and worries. Cuz I will always have those. *Chuckles* And dreams.

Oh am I a dreamer.

I dream and I look for ways to make them become reality. It doesn’t always work, sometimes I have to wait for them a long time and sometimes I have to keep them a secret because I think someone could take them away from me. Like some mean, weird dream demon.

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“Dreams are delicious.” (photocred: https://www.instagram.com/marvelous_mikee/)

Dreaming is like masturbating. You do it alone. In your bed. Behind your desk or under the shower. And if you’re anything like the catholic screw up I am, you sometimes feel guilty about dreaming. Cuz you got your head in the clouds, you cushion your life and you know you should actually toughen up because life probably isn’t getting easier. But it also feels kind of sweet to protect yourself with bubble wrap and maintain an open outlook as if anything is possible.

Today I had a bingewatching day off. I didn’t make any money. I didn’t do anything what most people would refer to as productive, but this was what I needed to prevent societal implemented head worries controlling my life.

There is a lot of pressure out there. It hits you like brain waves, telepathic whispers, because for some reason you get the idea that everyone around you is wasting their time productively and you are sitting around watching tv-shows and dreaming away.

Some people read newspapers, some buy expensive tickets to lame TED talks, others smoke weed. This is what works for me. I look at what people have visually created, take in the details, analyze the life lessons and take with me what I can use. Like Rey scavenging a junk cemetery looking for recycable bits to decorate her pod.

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We choose how we gas up our life. Lead free, slow Diesel or by strongly polluting your engine and the air quality of everyone around you.

If we could only stop feeling guilty about the way we dream, how we work towards them, or even what we dream of, the world would be a place of joy. A place of f*cking the rat race sideways and showing who’s in control. You are. Of your own life, projects and health. It is proven that positive, constructive thoughts decrease sickness and increase success. It saves on medical bills and painful surgeries to remove that hernia you manifested on your own poor spinal column.

I don’t think Facebook will pay for those ‘casualties’.

So wanna know what I’m doing Facebook?

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I am watching a show about dreaming.

And masturbation.

sex-education

 

XO

(By the way I do have a job. It’s called freelancing, and I am entitled to take a bingewatching day off because my boss (ME) basically encourages that. Long live flat hierarchies!)

 

 

 

Photo credits: ‘Netflix’, ‘Marvelous Mikee’, ‘Walt Disney Company’ and whoever I forgot. 

She’s a M A N I A C

There are days I devour Netflix shows like an all you can eat continental breakfast. I indulge, overeat and get bulimic. When this happens, weird neurochemical processes take over my membrane and suddenly my non-fictional life sets itself in the middle of my new favorite fictional universe. When those two worlds intertwine in some heavy love making, this is what comes out…

A monstrously exciting read. 

“After ‘Penny Dreadful’ and ‘Girlboss’, Evelien Delgouffe turns ‘Maniac’ for her long awaited new fan fiction blog post” (Daily Planet) 

There was a time I posted a new blog post every week. Back then I was globetrotting. Running after adventure like a dog chasing its own tail. And guess what? Wherever I went, there was my tail! In Australia, in China, even in Japan. Of course I had exciting things to tell each week. Heck, I had exciting things to tell every day, every hour, every minute! But since life is back to the status quo, not a lot of exciting things happen to report about.

I go to the supermarket, I sit at home and write and with the money I make from writing I go to the supermarket again. It’s the circle of life.

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© Netflix – Maniac

Even though I’ve changed the decor of my life to a new city, I still roam the streets like a moody teenager looking for a pattern. The pattern around which my life, and all life around that, is knitted.

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© Netflix – Maniac

There was a time I believed in the pattern and I saw the pattern everywhere. I even wrote a book about the pattern. The book has been lying in eyesight for almost a year now. On the corner of my desk. Collecting dust and cereal crumbs.

The book I wrote was filled with hidden walls, double meanings, easter eggs and was a perfect blueprint of the labyrint in my mind which researchers like to refer to as ‘Mindlantis’, the final frontier.

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© Netflix – Maniac

But lately, I don’t see the patterns anymore.

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© Netflix – Maniac

You: “Are you depressed Evvy?”

Me: “Isn’t that just the default setting of human beings?”

You: “Err….”

“But why did you actually never publish your book?”

Me: “Because I sent it to 5 people and 1 of those 5 people thought it was shit so from then on I thought it was shit too.”
“Anyway, I am too embarrassed to send it to publishers. That book is all me. I couldn’t bear people to criticize it.”

You: “Ahm, aren’t you a critic in real life yourself?”

Me: “Who are you the ethical department??”

You: “No actually I’m down the hall with the unethical department.”

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© Netflix – Maniac

You: “We have been watching you for a while miss Delgouffe.”

Me: “Yikes, and who the fudge are you mister Side Parting?”

You: “My name is Doctor Mantleray and I want to eat (…) errmm, study your brain.”

Me: “Oh yeah? And what’s in it for me?”

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© Netflix – Maniac

You as Dr. Mantleray: “Cutting-edge treatment of you neurological hypertheroidial amoebical mambo jambo… hysteria.”

“My colleagues from the unethical department look forward to meet you.”

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© Netflix – Maniac

Me: “Unless there is some world class editor/ renowned publisher working in your little unethical club, I’m afraid I’m not interested.”

You as Dr. Mantleray: “What a coincidence. There is! His name is Owen and he will be happy to help you publish your book.”

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© Netflix – Maniac

Me: “Errr, well…thank you, but never mind. I don’t think this version of my book is the definite one anyway… I should probably think about an alternative ending. As a matter of fact I should go do that right now.”

You as Dr. Mantleray : “If you work with us, our computer will do the writing for you. We will hook you up to our neuro-network and your book will be printed directly from your brain. Owen here, will just run the final checks on points and commas.”

Me: “Ok then mister Mantis…”

You as Dr. Mantleray: “Mantleray”

Me: “Whatever. Allow me to rephrase my initial question: What’s in it for you?”

You as Dr. Mantleray: “Once you begin to appreciate the structure of the mind, there’s no reason anything about us can’t be changed. Pain can be destroyed. The mind can be solved….”

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© Netflix – Maniac

You as Dr. Mantleray: “… And you will earn 50.000 euro”.

(15 minutes later)

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© Netflix – Maniac

You as Dr. Mantleray: “Ow-keey-oki miss Delgouffe, we will now hot wire you to our neuro-network for a little test run. We will ask your subconsciousness a few basic questions. Consider it a warm up, before we proceed to subduct your future bestseller from your brain.”

“And a 5, 6, 7, 8!”

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© Netflix – Maniac

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© Netflix – Maniac

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© Netflix – Maniac

Me: “Where the funk am I?”

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© Netflix – Maniac

You as Dr. Mantleray: “Your subconsciousness chose to wake up in Japan. You were here on the 16th of May, 2016. The real you has just witnessed a minor earthquake. Remember? You even put a message on Facebook after it happened.”

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You as Dr. Mantleray: “The earthquake was actually not coming from Miyazaki, like news media reported that day, but was caused by a small bug in our computer system when we hooked ‘the future you’ up to our neuro-network. It happens all the time.”

Me: “That’s ahm… swell… doctor, but why am I here?”

You as Dr. Mantleray: “Don’t ask me, ask your subconsciousness. Is this place also mentioned in your book?”

Me: “Yeah…”

You as Dr. Mantleray: “Well there you have it! Now don’t be scared. Throughout this interview your subconsciousness may switch through different locations from your past. And potentially your future.”

Me: “My future???”

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© Netflix – Maniac

You as Dr. Mantleray: “Yes, as a matter of fact this is you in 6 years from now. Look! You’re a doting mother, covered in rainbows.”

Me: “No no no, take me back! Please take me back!”

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© Netflix – Maniac

Me: “Where the fudge am I now?”

You as Dr. Mantleray: “Err… it seems like your mind is a little disoriented. It mixed your time in Australia with your fascination for cosplay and fantasy, miss Delgouffe. Maybe it’s better we take this conversation to our pre-formatted offices. I will get the floppy disk and program us right in.”

“There you go. Better ain’t it?”

Me: “Peachy…”

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© Netflix – Maniac

You as Dr. Mantleray: “Now let’s get to the core of this mission, miss Delgouffe. First question: are you allergic to any kind of nuts, seaweeds or possibly gluten intolerant? Our chef needs to know, since you will probably stay in our facilities for more than 48 hours.”

Me: “No.”

You as Dr. Mantleray: “Ace! You’re now officially screened and ready to print your bestseller, miss Delgouffe. We will bring you into contact with editor Owen and you can discuss the next steps together while Gertie, our computer, prints out the full story for you and the rest of the world to read!”

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© Netflix – Maniac

Me: “Owen, where are we?”

Owen: “We’re in an elevator.”

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© Netflix – Maniac

Me: “Owen, I cannot be in an elevator. Elevators scare the living shit out of me. I have experienced severe trauma in an elevator!”

You as Dr. Mantleray: “What’s happening in there? Why are the radars turning like crazy?!”

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© Netflix – Maniac

Owen: “Oh boy! You didn’t mention that fear in the intake conversation?”

Me: “They asked me about my fucking gluten intolerancies not about my Michael Myers vs. Laurie Strode relationship to elevators. Now get me the fuck out of here!”

You as Dr. Mantleray: “God Gertie, we’re losing her. Another prodigy’s about to go catatonic.”

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© Netflix – Maniac

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© Netflix – Maniac

Owen: “Better?”

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© Netflix – Maniac

Me: “Yes, thank you.”

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Me: “Hey I used to live on this corner! This was one of the first rooms I lived in when I moved to Berlin!”

Owen: “I know. This is 1 year ago today. Do you remember? You took this picture of yourself in your flat.”

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Me: “Yes I remember! I was writing… on my book.”

Owen: “I know.”

Me: “Wait a minute. Am I currently in there? Holy moly! Am I stalking myself??”

Owen: “Yes. What we need to find out miss Delgouffe is the simple neuro-dynamics of why you gave up on your book. Why did you throw something away you worked on for months? Why did it end up on a corner of your desk collecting dust and cereal crumbs?”

Me: “Jeez Owen… I don’t know. Maybe I’m afraid it’s not good enough. Not entertaining enough… After all I stick to true events. I didn’t even bother to use a lot of fantasy… It was just an immediate excerpt of my life. Past and present. And all the irony and double meanings I pretended to see along the way.”

Owen: “Pretended to see? What if what you saw was really there…?”

(In the meantime in the unethical department) 

You as Dr. Mantleray: “We have to stop the trial Azumi. I have to pull the plug!”

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© Netflix – Maniac

Dr. Azumi Fujita of the unethical department: “No! If you do that you’ll risk she ends up in a vegetative state!”

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© Netflix – Maniac

(In the meantime in neuro-land)

Me: “Nonsense Owen. I fooled myself. I’m a fool. And maybe that stupid book should just stay in the past.”

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© Netflix – Maniac

Owen: “At this point in time, when you were here writing in your flat. You also wrote a text message to a handsome looking guy you matched on Tinder. He answered you back and you met each other for the first time on Friday the 13th of October… In the real world, you are a few days shy of celebrating your first anniversary together… That same evening in this flat you listened to Lady Gaga because you had a sudden melancholy to her widely unacclaimed album ‘Artpop’. Today a movie with Lady Gaga enters cinemas and guess what… It’s a love story and she’s probably gonna win an Oscar for it. These are not random facts. I’m sure the Evelien from one year ago, who is now sitting in this flat, would have recognized this pattern.”

Dr. Azumi Fajita of the unethical department: “Dr. Mantleray we are gaining back her cooperation. The numbers are… growing impressively. Owen is actually getting to her.”

TV/ Maniac

© Netflix – Maniac

You as Dr. Mantleray: “Of course. I knew we were not going to risk another McMurphy…”

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© Netflix – Maniac

Me: “So the pattern really is the pattern, huh?”

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© Netflix – Maniac

Owen: “Yes. And therefor I have to ask you one thing…”

Me: “What do you mean?”

Owen: “You can’t finish your book if you’re running away from your demons. It’s time for the Confrontation stage of this trial. You need to confront your biggest trauma in order to finish your book and unravel your pattern. You will have to take us to that deciding moment in your life. The moment that changed your life forever, the moment that also hurt you the deepest.”

Me: “Ahm Owen? Why did you change into a purple looking Yoda?”

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© Netflix – Maniac

Owen: “Maybe because your subconsciousness feels more at ease talking to a stuffed animal. Ha! Check mate!”

Owen: “So to come back to my question…”

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© Netflix – Maniac

“Are you willing to travel back to the most painful moment in your life and dissolve the pattern?”

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© Netflix – Maniac

Me: “I’m ready for my therapy doctor.”

You as Dr. Mantleray:

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© Netflix – Maniac

“And Owen’s not a doctor.”

Dr. Azumi Fujita of the unethical department: “Just leave them, James.”

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© Netflix – Maniac

Me: “Brace yourself Owen.”

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© Netflix – Maniac

Me: “For this emotional torture ride will take you to belly tingling highs…

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…and sickening lows.”

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© Netflix – Maniac

XO

Congratulations! You made it all the way through! Thank you for reading and just for the record: I’m not depressed. This is merely a piece of fan fiction to show my deep appreciation for this great Netflix show. Check out my previous fan fiction posts on ‘Penny Dreadful’ and ‘Girlboss’ if you wanna discover more!

EXCLUSIVE! Star reporter Lois Lane sits down with the debased Evelien Delgouffe: “My book is good… to light my coffin”

Whatever happened to that talented girl that blew us all away in 2016 by traveling the world in search of that little thing called happiness. From Toronto to Tokio people could follow her every step on her widely acclaimed blog ‘Backpackersguidefortheblondeandtheclueless.com’ with weekly posts, updates and harvested wisdom. But after she moved to Berlin, things got quiet around Evelien Delgouffe. And now, my esteemed colleague seems to have completely disappeared from the radar.

Friday 25th of May, a true story written by Lois Lane.
Text by: Lois Lane
Written by: Lois Lane
In case you forgot who wrote this text: Lois Lane 

LOIS CLARK THE NEW ADVENTURES OF SUPERMAN

A tragic life story, is what people call it. Evelien’s lasts words on her blog date from November 2017 with that subversive, 5000 words too long read about Star Wars. Already then people whispered that Evelien was spiraling down to ‘coo coo ville’, potentially even leaning over to the dark side.

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One of her lasts pictures in Berlin. Clearly spiraling out of control.

Her peers in Asse, where she was born, haven’t heard from her. And also her parents have no clue where their daughter is. “That’s Evelien, she always disappears when she’s fed up with things.”

Does she still live in Berlin? Is she currently battling a heroin addiction? Did she suffer a small heart attack on her bike in Ibiza like that other promising Berlinoise Nico?

nico

After months of research I -Lois Lane- suddenly found a trace that had lead me from Asse (Belgium) to Gatineau (Canada) over Tooperang (Australia) and eventually Germany. Evelien is still alive. And yes, she is still living in Berlin. But it’s not where she was last seen. The upscale neighborhood where she first moved to has been replaced by one of the roughest neighborhoods in the city… Evelien Delgouffe currently lives in a crack house in Neukölln which she shares with a handful of trippy drag queens, one one-legged pirate, the songwriter of ’99 Luftballons’ and other creatures from the underground. And I don’t mean the Velvet Underground. There’s something rotten in Berlin and it’s much worse than the pop art bananas of Andy Warhol…

(FYI: I, Lois Lane, am still top banana) 

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On a Tuesday afternoon I meet Evelien in her humble abode. It took me a while to convince her to do this interview, but then she said she would do anything for a quick look at her Instagram account, since that was her favorite pastime before she hit rock bottom.

“I’ve lost 12 followers”, she grunts. “I thought I had become a legend by now… But I guess I am officially a hasbeen…”

Lois: “Could you tell us what has happened to you, Evelien?”

Evelien: “What difference does it make…”

Lois: “People want to know if you’re alright and if they can help.”

Evelien: “People huh? People can fuck right off. I’m done with people.”

She removes some pieces of cardboard from the floor to dig up a rusty tin box and opens it. As far as my knowledge goes, there seems to be something inside that looks like a crack pipe… Or possibly a shriveled baby carrot… She takes out a ready-rolled cigarette and a package of matches and places the cigarette in the left corner of her mouth. She grabs a piece of paper and lights it with a match. The paper bursts into flames, which she then uses to light her cigarette. After one second all that’s left of the piece of paper is chunks of dark grey ashes on the floor.

Later I, Lois Lane, would learn she used a page of her own book to light that cigarette.

Evelien: “I also re-use the pages sometimes to make LSD. Or whenever I’m out of toilet paper. Or when I want to cut (…)”

“You see that guy over there with the needle in his arm? That’s Yuri… He composed ’99 Luftballons’ in the late eighties on those little kids’ pianos. He was only 4 years old at that time.”

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“He thought it would become his golden ticket to showbusiness, but he never got any acclaim for it. He ended on the street. Broke and creatively sodomized. He can’t stand the song ever since and goes crazy every time he hears it.”

Lois: “Maybe we shouldn’t mention it too loud then…”

Evelien: “Don’t worry, he has ripped out his ear canal 20 years ago…”

Lois: (Gulp)

Evelien: “You’re wasting your time here Miss Lane. I’m sure there’s better stories to stick your perky nose into.”

Lois: “I am not the only one who wonders how a talented young woman like you has ended up in a crack house like this. You were a promising writer. Remember your birthday last year? You were so proud to have finished your very first book. Your debut as an author.”

Evelien: “My book… My book is good to light cigarettes… and one day my coffin.”

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Lois: “But why?” 

Evelien: “It’s not the city Lois, it’s life. Life swallows you up. You learn from your mistakes only to make them over and over again. I don’t have time to sit down with you and smell your expensive perfume. I was once like you. Always dressed to the nines, as if I came straight from the hairdresser every day. But I have quit that life a long time ago Lois. Never will I be remembered for my immaculate beauty. Forever will I be remembered for my failure and my rotting body and brain. Now get out of here and never come back.”

When I walked out of the room, Evelien called my name. I turned around and she said:

Evelien: “Lois, you have always been a better reporter than me. Please take my place. You have my blessing.”

And that’s the last I, and thus the rest of the world, heard of Evelien Delgouffe.

In case you forgot: My name is Lois Lane. The only real reporter out there. 

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Me: “That TRAMP!”

That Lois Lane is out to ruin me! Ever since I started out as a journalist in 2011 she has been trying to sabotage my career. First by sleeping with Superman and now by creating fake stories. This is nothing more than a disgusting smear campaign!

I call together a press conference!

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To my dear readers, followers, friends and family: I know I have been absent from this blog but that’s only because I have been very busy being REALLY REALLY HAPPY.

  • I am not living in a crack house with the author of ’99 Luftballons’,
  • I am not lighting cigarettes with pages of my book. (Although I did think about it once…),
  • I am still very much working as a freelance journalist/copywriter so if you want the best content, it is still ME you should contract and not that shade throwing palmtree of a Lois Lane. She’s just bitter because she got fired from ‘The Daily Planet’ after they found out she was earning money on the side as a stripper.

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This is why I declare ‘Backpackersguidefortheblondeandtheclueless’ officially as re-opened for business. I will not promise I will blog every week like I used to, but expect more frequent updates from my side with fresh memes, gifs, puns and adventures!

Auf wienerschnitzel boys and gurls!

Stay tuned for more jaw dropping, straw missing, air sipping content to come!

XO

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A Big Blönde & Clueless Blessed Berlin Birthday Bash Baby! And something with a Book …

Yesterday was my BIRTHDAY Blonde & Clueless’ers!

I had a great time waking up early, bumping my toe against the chair, stumbling over the wire of my hair straightener almost landing my face against the door.  #Blöd&Clueless

You: “So Evvy, did you get a lot of prezzies?”

Me: “Ahm no, we’re not in Bavaria…”

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You: “I mean presents…”

Nope.

But that’s not what birthdays are about once you turn 29. It’s about enjoying the company of your loved ones, friends, having a little wine, …

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What rhymes with 29? A big ass glass o’ wine! 

But I am very excited about one present I got.

And it happens to be the present I gave to myself…

Yesterday morning I went to the print shop around the corner to print….

MY VERY OWN BOOK!

That’s right. I have written a book. My debut as an author. And probably the only one I will write since it’s my poor little life story until now.

Well partly…

Well 90%…

Or at least 40%.

I should reconsider my PR before I make this official. Some parts are rather… shocking.

Anyway back to my memoires. Knowing me a little you probably assume it’s chick lit right? NOPE! No ‘Sex And The City’ or ‘Fifty Shades of Gray’. I wish I had the brain to write such bestsellers. I would be filthy rich.

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My story turned out a little bit more complex and therefor I will never earn big ass $$$$

“No no no, positive thoughts Evvy!” What you reflect to the mirrors of the Universe, you will get back tenfold!

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So I am happy to tell you it’s THE BEST BOOK EVER WRITTEN! Move over J.K. Rowling. I’m taking over your throne with a BANG!

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You: “So Evvy, what’s it about exact-ly?”

Well, it’s a feminist manifesto, disguised as a tragic love story.
(Oh right that reminds me: #metoo )

It’s a ball of wisdom disguised as a naïve narrative. 

It’s a BESTSELLER disguised as a BOOK! 

Ok, that last thing was maybe a little exaggerated. But I am pretty sure I have written the new Bible. This is some Ultra New Testament shit fo sho.

You: “Has it got anything to do with the blog?”

OMG yes! How did you know? I am so proud of you You-San! I taught you well. Yes, that is exactly right. The story I have told on this blog, referring to the Australia-China-Japan-France-Canada-Berlin bit, is basically the chronology. So it is very much about traveling for wisdom and a lot of references to spiritual and paragnostic pickings, the Universe, religion, philosophy, etc. But it is also a touching love story of which you don’t know the depths because I never mentioned that on the blog. Truth revealed: The blog isn’t even half the story.

Anyway, I think it’s super cool, I am very happy with it unregarded of what will happen to it now. My options being:

  • publishing it
  • handing it out for free
  • burning it
  • passing it on to my (grand)kids… Or cats
  • keeping it under my mattress…
  • … more suggestions welcome!

I want to thank my awesome friends and roommates here in Berlin for speeding up the process. My main goal to come to Berlin was to write this book. I needed to remove myself from my comfort zone and close myself off somewhere else. As in a creative bubble or fever cabin to sweat this story out. I gave myself until the end of the year to write it but I started 18th of August and finished 18th of October. Right in time for my birthday.

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My new room worked it’s magic on me. Ever since I left Prenzlauer Berg and moved to Wedding the writing process shifted into a higher gear. I want to thank Amos for letting me stay in his room and leaving his creative AMOSPHERE! Also for wishing me good luck on the writing while he was away. By the way, check out his record label Index:records he’s a real mean music maestro.

And of course my in house roomie Addison who will become world’s most famous music producer one day. You can check out his COSMIC COMPOSITIONS on Facebook, Instagram, the whole shebang. And give the pages a like when you’re there alright? Very creative house here!

I am sad I will be leaving this place tomorrow but luckily I already have a new room to move to and thus the story continues!

Well the story of my life, that is. The book is already printed and I don’t want to make any more adjustments 🙂

So for  now I say good bye. Until next time. Let me know if you would like to read my book. Any suggestions on what I should do with it next are very welcome.

By the way spanks a lot for the mad birthday wishes y’all! ❤ 

Tschüssie! 

pretzel

XO

 

The S C A M

(***Attention: this could be my blondest and defo most clueless post to date.)

So these last few months I have been cooking up a plan. Like I always do.

Several weeks ago I had put up a message on Facebook stating I was looking for a fever cabin to pursue a new adventure.

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The main goal of it all was to move out of Antwerp, take my job with me, and live somewhere I could write and live at the same time. It could be Belgium, but then I started considering the bigger picture.

There were a few things that worked in my advantage:

  • My roommate gave up the lease of his apartment and went to live with his lover which meant I had to move out anyway
  • The roaming costs abroad suddenly got cancelled which means you can make phone calls to and from Europe without a financial hangover. (Well… it depends how much of course)
  • I started up my own business which basically means I can take my writing all over the world…

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The borders had been lifted and I suddenly remembered me being in Canada talking to my good friend Audrey. We had just celebrated Christmas and the New Year was a couple of days shy. I told her I wanted to live in Berlin for a couple of months.

You: “Berlin? Why Berlin?”

Me: “Dunno. Just to be there and have a change of scenery…”

You: “Why not Barcelona or Bali…or…Barcelona?”

Me: “Because I’m a non conformist, an anti establishment hippie who needs distraction and action PREFERABLY from like-minded people and ESPECIALLY from men with neck and nuckle tattoos.”

help-me-lord-wording-knuckle-tattoos-for-guys

Yes…Help me.

So: After Canada I went back to Antwerp from where I pursued a career as an independent writer and I started making serious plans to set up base in Berlin.

I went for a short visit in June.

You probably remember the TRAVELING THREESOME POSTS from Berlin, don’t cha?

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So much fun ❤

And in July I took the BIG STEP and started looking for a room to move into.

You: “WoW it’s like you moved there in a blink of an eye!”

Me: “Not so fast…”

The universe decided to test me. BIG TIME.

Reality Check

I came in contact with someone who was subletting a room in Berlin.

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We sent e-mails back and forth and I decided the time was right. I took the room, payed a deposit

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but ended up… ROYAL F U C K E D.

shocked

The room turned out to be a scam.

It didn’t exist. Merely in my imagination and in the perfectly portrayed fairytale the so-called owner painted for me.

I lost a lot of money.

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You:  “How much?????”

Enough to pay for this giant Darth Vader head which costs…. Well if you can read the 4 digit number on the price tag you surely don’t have to visit an eye doctor …

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You:

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It was a setback. A massive one.

I couldn’t believe that ME, the so-called investigative journalist, could fall for a scam like that?

How blonde and clueless could one be??

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You: “So how did you found out it was a scam, Evvy?”

The name with which she…or he… operated is in fact an existing name and it belongs to a girl. A girl who got scammed whilst looking for a room in Munich. She had given her passport information and that’s when her identity was abused to scam other people. Including me.

Now, if you see me somewhere on the internet subletting rooms in Barcelona, Delhi or New York don’t pay me any deposit and report me to you nearest police station. Thank you.

I went through a terrible low after the scam. I lost so much money. Money I worked hard for as a fresh starter-upper. Money I won’t ever see again.

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After a few weeks time, my bank confirmed me that the account where I sent the money to was emptied and closed down. The lead had turn cold. The police couldn’t do anything either. They had to drop the case.

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I was reconsidering my entire plan. But I wanted to go to Berlin so darn bad… It had been my New Year’s resolution. And I needed to find a new place to live anyway. Either in Belgium or somewhere else.

I decided to give it one more go. I wouldn’t let my dream be crushed by one bad person.

I decided to put up a message on a housing website stating I got scammed and I was wanting to give things a second chance.

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I got quite some response to my -let’s be honest: very sad- message. People were sending me photos of their refrigerator. Telling me I was welcome to stay for dinner. Also a lot of Indian guys responded to me, telling me they would be happy to comfort me *wink wink*.

But then I got a private message from a lady. A single mother of two. Who would start looking for a new room mate in a couple of weeks but decided to let me know I would be slightly in the advantage of becoming her new roomie.

Every cloud has a silver lining. That’s fo sho. And regarding that scammer: I sincerely hope KARMA is a ball busting bitch!

Barack Obama, Michelle Obama

The plan was still on. And I prepared for my big evacuation.

I made things official in the bar. They knew my final bar tending days were coming and I slowly but surely started planning and moving my stuff out of the apartment.

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= > SHIPPING OUT

My last weeks in Antwerp were my best. I shared a goodbye beer with my favorite customer, went to the Pride with my two favorite men, went for a bike ride with dad and had a vegan pizza with mom!

 

 

I had a great time saying goodbye to my friends but I needed to move on. I had decided. So I persisted.

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I am now happy to tell you I am currently living in a wonderful very much existing room in the center of Berlin.

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My lovely street in P Berg! ❤

I am meeting lots of new people, discovering new places and things every day. And I am doing a lot of writing here.

For those of you who are in need of some juicy copywriting and/or storytelling or who want to help me earn my money back, I am open for business and happy to be of service right here in my Berlin office! CONSIDER THIS AS A GOOD CAUSE HELPING THE POOR! => www.eveliendelgouffe.com !

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One of my many writing spots ❤

Thank you for reading and stay tuned!

flowersforlioba

XO

 

G-spot

(***Caution: just like the main image of this posts suggests, this read isn’t too elaborate in words nor content.)

So you might remember a little …

You: “Ahm Evvy, don’t we get an hello first?”

Me: “Err.. yeah… sure…. (…)”

Me: “Hello everybody!”

hello

You: “Hi Evelien!”

troy-mcclure

Me: “You might remember me from blog entries such as ‘Should the world turn Vegan: Yay or Nay?’, ‘Bitch don’t kill my vibe’ and ‘G I R L B O S S‘.

Well today, I’m going to elaborate on that last one in line since I am officially …

A Girl-BOSS!

That’s right I have found my G-spot.

That blog entry (click to read) was a wake up call and forced me to look at my inevitable future entrepreneurship. But I was completely clueless. How to deal with entrepreneurship anyway?

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So I decided to take advice from the most notorious entrepreneur and current Pimp King of the United States:

donaldtrump

Mr. Donald TRUMP errybody!

hermione sarcasm

What did this goof.. -err ‘good’- man teach us about lady business?

That’s right: grab ‘m by the … <fill in the blank>… BINGO!

So that’s what I did. I grabbed my lady balls and sucked them up (…) I went in and applied for a full time independency. From employers, men, this WORLD!

I am an Independent Woman part 1.

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Well, I need to pay a significant amount of taxes and social contributions in order to maintain that freedom (…)

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As from now I will be offering my writing skills to the world and its wide web.

You can cont(r)act me for all kind of writings as well as editing, storytelling, translations, advertising, articles, travel stories, columns, ghost writing, crossword puzzles … In Dutch AND in English!

Basically everything that requires the use of letters and words to bring YOUR message across.

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This new life will enable me to expand my horizons and embrace my freedom whilst writing, traveling and kicking ass. The only things I need are a laptop, an internet connection, my two brain halves and an equal amount of hands. I can basically do this from all over the world.

THAT IS WHY:

I have currently set up office in BERLIN, GERMANY, where I will be available 24/7 !

THAT’S LONGER HOURS THAN YOUR FAVORITE SPÄTI ! (which means night shop in German)

I think I always knew this would be the next step for me. A year ago I sent my future self a letter from China with a clear message:

As if I was my own Doc, sending my own Marty McFly a letter from the past!

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So are you in desperate need of words? Then don’t be afraid to drop me a line through any of the following platforms:

www.facebook.com/blondeclueless

www.facebook.com/evelien.delgouffe

www.instagram.com/eveliendelgouffe

evelien.delgouffe@hotmail.com 

www.linkedin.com/in/eveliendelgouffe

OR MY BRAND NEW WEBSITE:

www.eveliendelgouffe.com !

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Let’s connect and find each other’s G-spots!

donaldtrump

***

=> NEXT time on the blog: I will tell you about HOW I ended up in Berlin and which OBSTACLES I had to overcome to get here. It’s gonna be W I L D!

XO

G I R L B O S S

(*** Caution: this read contains a shit load of swear words and was established after sitting behind a computer for 18 hours straight ***)

Last time I was at the dentist, I had an epiphany and a strange dream encounter with Dorian Gray, Fjodor Dostojevski and… some other dude I can’t remember. If you ALSO don’t remember, you should definitely read this first before we continue.

XXX

Last week I was back in the horizontal chair of torture. This time I didn’t have to undergo surgery. I just went in to check if there were any cavities that needed to be filled. Now, I have a lot of voids in my life that need filling, but I’m pretty sure I don’t have cavities. I go on yearly check-ups, like, every year (…). I’ve been getting the green light time after time and multiple ‘congratulations’ on my oral hygiene. I’m sure this is just a waste of time.

Dentist: “Hello there Evelien. Been on any adventures lately?”

Me: “No I’m keeping it on the low down these days doc. Ya know, saving some dough. Keepin it real ya know what I’m sayin’?” $

(I don’t actually talk gangsta to my dentist. I don’t know how it came out this wrong)

Dentist: “Let’s have a look, shall we?”

As I laid down and the bright light hit my eyes and partially blinded me, I opened wide.

I felt some scratching, some polishing and then… the most disturbing sound of all… :

A ‘hum’.

Followed by:

Dentist: “This is a little disturbing.”

Me: “wjhgjkzrh?”

Of course I couldn’t ask ‘What is?’ with this guy’s fingers still in my mouth.

Dentist: “There are four fillings that need to be re-done. But the main problem is this crack in your molar. If this turns out to be a coronal fracture, we will need to call up the lab and place a dental crown. The bad news is this doesn’t get refunded by the state. The worst news is that it will cost approximately 700 euros. Or more.”

Me: “Fuck me in the dick!”

Dentist: “Errm, not that it’s my area of expertise but I’m pretty sure that’s anatomically impossible.”

Me: “Why does shit like this always happen to me at the worst possible time?”

Phone rings.

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Dentist: “Ahm…It’s for you”

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Me: “Whodis?” $

Matrix-B1

Voice : “Maybe now this is a good time to establish your future.”

Me: “Whut?”

Voice: “This is your wake up call.”

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Voice: “This where the road stops. It’s time you make a choice.”

 

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Me: “No more candy for me Morpheus. Can’t you see I’m in a dentist chair here? I’m already picking my teeth about how I’m gonna pay for all this. Haven’t you heard this gig is probably going to cost me hundreds of euros?”

Me (seemingly swearing out of nowhere): “Fo fuck’s sake!”

Morpheus: “Seriously. Hasn’t Kung Fu School taught you anything? Are you still doing your Qi Gong every day? You need to focus, woman. And choose a life.”

chooselife

Me: “Ha! That’s a different movie.”

Morpheus: “This is YOUR movie. I can use whatever quote that pops into your mind.”

Me: “In that case I don’t have to follow the script. I choose the white rabbit.”

whiterabbit

“Ooh, can I name it Jefferson Airplane?”

Morpheus: “Have you been getting my messages?”

Me: “You mean this confetti card?”

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Morpheus: “No you annoying c… . THIS message.”

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Me: “Oh that virus infested thing? I erased that fucker beyond thunderdome.”

Morpheus: “God damn, woman. I have been sending you valuable messages in order to start your own business.”

Me: “My own business? I don’t even own a home, how can I own my own freaking business?”

Morpheus: “You don’t need a home. All you need is an url for your webiste. And a decent internet connection. Decipher the code. Then you will unlock your future.”

Me: “But I don’t know jack about binary codes.”

Morpheus: “Follow me.”

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Me: “Err….Where are we?”

Morpheus: “San Francisco. You’re on the set of a TV show.”

Me looking in the rear-view mirror: “Whoa, who’s the hottie?”

Morpheus: “That’s Britt Robertson. You have morphed into her character Sophia. She will help you start your business.”

Me: “But business in what? I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do?!”

Morpheus:

door

*Morpheus out*

Motherf*cker. Now I’m stuck in this hot body somewhere in San Francisco (…) with a killer waist line (…) an apartment of my own (…) and an online business that will turn into gold over the next seasons? Damn! I’M NEVER MOVING OUT OF THE MATRIX AGAIN!

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Me: “Okay let’s find out what this chick is up to.”

sophia

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Me: “Wait a hot minute….She sells vintage clothes over the internet….By the name NastyGal? I’ve purchased here! This is the beginning of an empire!”

But why am I here to witness this? I don’t even want to sell clothes online. If anything I would open my own coffee bar, but that shit market is saturated.”

I need to call Morpheus. He needs to bring me back to my life.

shit

“Come on motherf*cker pick up.”

 

Me leaving a message on his voicemail:

“Yo Morpheus, this has been a lot of fun but I need to get back to my dentist chair en pay my bill. Could you call me back please? ASAP?!”

I’m screwed! Now I’m stuck in this character, needing to continue the narrative and I don’t know what the fuck I have to do. How did she turn NastyGal into a successful company? I should show more interest in these kind of things!

So now I am not only figuring out my own mess. Now I need to figure out this chick’s life too.

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“Isn’t there like a script or something lying around here?!”

(Knock knock)

Oh great, another character intervenes. The plot thickens! Fuck it, I’m not answering the door.

(Knock knock knock)

Oh for fuck’s sake.

(Aggressively opens door) : “WHAT?!”

shane

“Ehm, hi Sophia…. I wondered if you wanted to share some ice cream….”

Me: “Errr, …, no, no sorry I can’t. I have a dentist appointment….err, later tonight…”

Hot guy: “A dentist appointment? With the Chinese dude downstairs?”

Me: “No… with err… doctor Morpheus… Yeah, he’s supposed to be the best in town.”

Hot guy: “That’s funny. Aren’t you walking around with a hernia sticking out of your lower abdomen because you don’t have health insurance.”

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Me: “Errrr, (this girl doesn’t have health insurance? At least I have that going for me back home!) That’s correct! But he’s a friend of my dad’s so he’s offering it for free…. It’s probably just a waste of spit anyway. My check ups are always A-OK.”

Hot guy: “Ok I will be around if you change your mind.”

Me: “Alrightie bye-bye now.”

Damn! Was this guy a hot piece of ass! I wonder if he’s my boyfriend? Should I have kissed him? No time for romantics. I need to escape this bubble right now before I get knee-deep.

8 hours later:

sophiashane

Me: “FUCK! This is what 9 months of no sex does with a person. One hot guy shows up and I cave like pudding. Sorry I need to scram and find a way out of this gorgeous body.”

Hot guy: “Ahm, …”

Morpheus: “Hello you have reached Morpheus’ voicemail. For entering the Matrix dial 1. For escaping the Matrix *tuuuuuuuuuut*”

shit

I guess there’s only one thing I can do.

Suck it up…

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And check in for some retail therapy.

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After all, it seemed like the most plausible thing my character would do.

Shop manager: “Excuse me miss, you were here yesterday and forgot to pay for your sunglasses.”

Me: “What?! Are you accusing me of shoplifting?”

Shop manager: “That’s right.”

Me: “Look pal, I didn’t steal anything alright? I only just entered this body 12 hours ago. If it’s any consolation, my character is about to start an online business that will go global and make a lot of money. Once I receive my first pay check, I will pay for the so-called stolen sunglasses. I just need to get out of this Matrix and get back home so I can continue my life and Sophia can do the same.”

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“I need to get out of here.”

If Morpheus won’t help me, I will break this Matrix open myself!

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“Get out of the way! I got cappuccinos to serve and columns to write!”

15 minutes later:

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45 minutes later:

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Me: “And that’s how I ended up with my car on your curb.”

Old lady: “Damn girl, you’ve been on quite some adventure. Sounds to me your life isn’t all that bad back home. You got that column working for you. Even though it sounds like a bunch of whining about not finding a suitable mate.”

Me: “Hey!

whining column

Old lady: “Seems you’re crying over spilt milk. Just like your car, your life is waiting for you to kick start the engine. If I were you, I would find a way to make a living out of independent writing. And maybe even try the YouTuber thing. You never know where it takes you.”

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Me: “It all seems such a fuck load of work. I don’t know if I can do this all by myself. I have been refusing to start freelancing. I’m scared to take the jump and pay most of my income to taxes and shit. What if I work my ass off and not even make a decent living?”

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Me: “What in the ass, lady?!”

Old lady: “First of all: you swear too much. And second of all: you think too much. Either you take the risk. Or stay stranded forever.”

Me: “I’m afraid I will be stranded here forever.”

(phone rings)

Me: “OH MY GOD IT’S MORPHEUS. I GOTTA TAKE THIS.”

Me: “Yes….Yes….Golden Gate Bridge? Got it! But there’s one thing I got to do. Give me 35 minutes.”

30 minutes later:

sophiashane
Me: “It was really nice meeting you. Sophia is a lucky girl but I have five minutes to get to the Golden Gate Bridge and out of this Matrix. Take care!”

Hot guy: “Ahm, …”

4,5 minutes later:

I’M HEEEEEEEERE! 

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Morpheus: “Take a seat…”

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Morpheus: “… And put your stolen sunglasses on.”

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aloce

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Dentist: “And we’re all done! Good news: the coronal fracture doesn’t go completely through. I inserted a serum that will hold everything together. Best news: it’s completely free. Congratulations you just saved yourself 700 euros.”

Me: “That’s exactly the amount I need to pay for my first quarter of independence!”

Dentist: “Ahm what?”

Me: “Morpheus was right! I’ve been shown the door. Now I just gotta walk through it.”

Bitches -err- World, here I come!

XO

matrixcurtain

matrix

(This post was powered by ‘The Matrix’, ‘Trainspotting’, Netflix TV show ‘Girlboss’, black coffee and fried rice with chicken. Oh, and some tic tacs.)

 

B*tch don’t kill my vibe

I’m a sinner who’s probably gonna sin again. 

Lord forgive me. The things I don’t understand. 

Sometimes I need to be alone. 

B*tch don’t kill my vibe. B*tch don’t kill my vibe. 

________________________________________________________

Last time we spoke, I told you how I decided to quit my job as a newspaper journalist. Some of you were slightly panicking after this read. Asking me about my next projects and stuff. Of course I couldn’t really answer this question.

I was restricted.

I couldn’t tell a soul, and things were still very much pending. It was a horrifying wait. But now I’m so very extremely relieved to announce I’m currently the proud contributor of my very own column in the newspaper.

I feel like Carrie Bradshaw in Sex and the City!

carrie-bradshaw-typing

(Minus the smoking and the Big (shoe) obsession)

Actually I’m definitely more of a Rachel kind of gal.

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My first column got published Wednesday 26th of April.

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The basic concept is that me -a millennial- is corresponding with a baby boomer.

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This baby boomer (her name is Frieda Joris and she’s a very respected former journalist) actually used to be a colleague of mine while I was still working full time at the newspaper. During the five years I walked around the office, we hardly exchanged a word. We were too caught up in our own thing. Researching, making phone calls, discussing with the editor-in-chief, writing, erasing, writing again, … There was no time for chit chat.

By the end of 2016 we both closed the door. She, because she had to. After a successful career of 45 years Frieda had to retire. And, after a promising career of -poor old me- only 5 years I took a sabbatical, to eventually cut the umbilical cord one year later.

We never really realized how intertwining our roads were and would become. Until we started getting in touch once the rush and the stress of the deadline slowly but surely crept out of our lives. Ironically we discovered we had much more in common than we could ever imagine. That’s how the idea grew to have a millennial and a baby boomer discuss life as they know it now.

Still a little uncomfortable in their new skins. Trying to give direction. Find balance. Keep busy. Stay productive. All while maintaining a good sense of humor. Self-mockery is rule n°1 for basic survival mkay?

And this, lovely people, is what we bring to you every Wednesday from now on in ‘Het Laatste Nieuws’. Only the biggest and best read newspaper in the small country of Belgium.

A couple of days ago our second column was released.

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Again, Frieda is the first to address me. (Don’t worry, next week it’s my turn). Telling me a story about how her first love suddenly showed up on her door step a gazillion years after they first met and fell in love. Of course my answer is slightly passive-aggressive. I would give my left arm (it’s ok, I’m a rightie) to have similar plot twists occur in my life. I wonder if you could hire a director to integrate more romance into your every day life.

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Me: “Ok guys listen up, we need dim lights, a Channing Tatum lookalike, some decent catering and cowbell. Definitely more cowbell.”

Me: “First assistant what do you think?”

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Fo Sho.

Ok romance-wise I’m not living the fairy tale. But damn this column is making up for it. It is the one thing I dreamed about ever since I started discovering my writing skills. That and writing a book. But who reads books nowadays anyway??

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I feel super blessed I got the chance to explore this new way of communicating and reaching out to hopefully as many people as possible. I feel this column comes at the best moment in my life. Even though I have been wanting it for a long time, I wasn’t ready before. I didn’t really have a story to tell. And I was too insecure to speak my mind.

Now it feels super organic to talk about my every day thoughts, my occasional struggles, how small and meaningless they may be on a global scale.

Everybody struggles. Everybody hurts. Everybody loves. And everybody celebrates. It’s this constant up and down that keeps us on our toes. That keeps us alive. And that connects us. If only we would drop the act and be more open about our REAL emotions I guess a lot of people could benefit from it.

This is why I’m closing the gap. One millimeter at a time. Closing the gap between ‘showing the world how we want to be seen’ and ‘showing who we truly are’. There are too many digital platforms where we boast our personality and every day personal life into something it is mostly not. Trying to pretend everything is peachy 24/7.

 

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THE

crap

I’m not suggesting you should share every bad hair day, physical ache or act of domestic violence on Facebook, Instagram or Twitter. (In this last case you should defo go to the police) But I see a lot of people stressing over their lives because they believe other people have their shit together all the time.

masterandservant

No Dave, I meant your other quote

↓↓

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Therefor, every Wednesday, I will tell you how I don’t have my shit together all the time. About how I desperately miss some romantic dedication in my life. How I wonder what I’m supposed to do until my retirement. How I ask myself why people enslave themselves, often working a job they genuinely hate, just so they could spend a comfortable old age. Knowing, when you reach that age, you don’t have the same energy to enjoy life like you did when you were young.

Balance is key. And I’m looking for that key in order to open the door to my personal happiness. I’m sure it won’t fit your door. No one’s alike. And thank God we aren’t.

I am thankful for backpackersguidefortheblondeandtheclueless to come about one year ago. It really helped me to find my voice. Thanks to you readers I discovered this type of authentic storytelling brings an added value to everyone who needs it. It helps us to accept that we are all struggling. And it’s our DAMN good right!

Tell me what you don’t like about yourself. And let’s fix it together.

Keep it real, peeps.

XO

Man it feels good to blog again.

Mrs. Grinch

* It’s that time, Christmas time is here
Everybody knows there’s not a better time of year
Hear that sleigh, Santa’s on his way
Hip, Hip Hooray, for Christmas Vacation*

Writing Saturday morning December 24th, 2016.
I wake up in a children’s bed in Guelph, Ontario, Canada.

Celine had let me borrow her niece’s bed for my first Canadian night. I rub the dream crusts out of my eyes, scratch the poor ol’ gulliver and take a look outside the window.

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Behold a wonderful white deck of fresh snow. The white Christmas I was dreaming of.

Tonight’s my very first American Christmas and I feel super charged. Rumor has it we’re celebrating in Mono Mill, a town a little over an hour away. We’re expected at the Christmas dinner table of Stephanie’s (Celine’s sister) in-laws. And since the place is so far away we’re taking our sleeping gear with us to spend the night all together. And spend another Christmas day filled with food and candies the day after!

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(I love my candies)

So at about 4 pm, after spending the entire afternoon in our onesies watching ‘The Polar Express’ we start to get ready to take the drive up to the North Pole. Err, I mean Mono Mill.

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All aboard!

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Counting: Celine, Celine’s three sons, Celine’s husband, Celine’s dad, Celine’s sister, her husband, her two kids and Kevin, ahm, I mean me 🙂

Just before we got out of the house and into the car I had a chance to Skype my parents and wish my family back in Belgium a Merry Christmas. They were already rounding up their Christmas celebrations. Having dessert. Unwrapping presents. Topped with some annual good old drama.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my family but every year for Christmas there’s always a little bit of tension going on. I guess that’s what happens when you have a bunch of different minds and characters crammed into one space together. I was looking forward to a drama-free Christmas and checked with Celine in advance if her family usually has a lot of dramas this time of year.

Celine: “No, we don’t. But this year is a little different since we’re invited over to spend Christmas with my sister’s in-laws. There will be some neighbors and other people I’ve never met before.”

Me: “I see…”

Either way, I was feeling pretty good about it. And I couldn’t wait to get my hands on that Canadian turkey! Gobble gobble!

Too bad it exploded the day before…

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Just kidding.

A firm hour and a pair of numb butt cheeks later, we arrive at Casa Christmas! The place is beautiful. And huge! We’re sleeping over with 15 people and there will be a total of 20 something people coming over to have dinner. Inside the house is decorated with wooden floors, a big American kitchen, christmas lights and a stunning tree. I feel at home right away! Especially since Leona and Carl, who were hosting, were such nice and welcoming people.

Leona and Carl: “Say, you’re not Chinese.”

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Me: “Ahm…no I’m not…”

Leona and Carl: “Well we thought you would have been since we heard Celine had met you in China. How funny we just assumed, right!”

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Me: “Hilarious :-)”

Carl: “So where are you from then?”

Me: “I live in Belgium.”

Carl: “Belgium hey? Well sit down I’ll get you some Canadian brew.”

Waw, what a lovely home. I was just about to print out some adoption papers to slip under these people’s noses later tonight when all of a sudden the door bell rings.

Leona: “Oh hi-de-ho neighbors come on in!”

It was a woman of around 60 with her two daughters and her husband coming through the front door. They looked like a lovely family. No drama hazard here!

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*Hip hip hooray for Christmas vacation*

I hopped over to go meet them and shake their hand when I suddenly came across a fifth person entering with the bunch.

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Grandmother Margaret.

Better known as ‘Marg’. A 5 foot 8 dame that has been walking this planet for 81 years straight. Unlike her daughter Debbie she doesn’t live next door but in an apartment in Toronto. She just tagged along for the occasion.

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Marg and her daughter Debbie checking out the hors d’oeuvres.

Her fingers were incredibly long and lean, I noticed, when she came over to shake everybody’s hand.

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When she arrived over to where I was seated -minding my own business, quietly enjoying my Canadian brew- she hunched over to me, sniffed up my perfume, looked me straight in the eye and asked:

“And who might you be dear?”

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Me: “Err, my name is Evelien. I’m Celine’s adopted Chinese daughter…*grin grin*”

Marg: “A smarty mouth hey?”

Me: “No, ma’am. I’m just visiting from Belgium. I come in peace.”

She didn’t bother to go into the conversation any deeper and continued her stroll around the house.

Marg: “Thank you for having me Leona, …

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Leona: “Oh no problem dear. What can I get you to drink?”

Marg: “You know my drink. Rye with ginger ale and water.”

Leona: “Coming right up!”

I was amazed by this woman. She was turning 82 next week but she was walking around the house as if she was the Queen B. She had this super intense aura over her and -by the looks of it- enjoyed male attention very much. Except for that of her son in law. You could tell she hated his guts. When he accidentally knocked over a cup of coffee, her eyes shot laser beams.

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Apparently he had always let her walk all over him and never managed to get rid of her bullying since. He was whipped.

Marg: “So have they got houses like this where you come from, Evelien?”

I was a little offended by her asking me a question like that. As if I came from some hillbilly country where we live in containers. But I guess she was just looking for a fresh and spineless fiddle to fiddle. I wouldn’t let her tickle my nerves that easy. She likes to provoke people and make them feel uncomfortable in her presence. I looked through her game straight away. Heck, I invented that game.

Me: “Yeah we have houses. We build houses like crazy.”

Marg: “So what brings you to Canada for Christmas, you don’t have a family?”

Me: “Well, I’m not an orphan. My family’s at home celebrating Christmas right now. It’s ok, they understand I have places to see, people to meet. We did our Christmas dinner a week earlier.”

Marg: “So you travel a lot hey?

Me: “Yes ma’am.”

Marg: “So what do you do? In life? What do you do?”

Me: “Well …. (I decided not to give her the long story about me taking a gap year and all. I just send her off with the short summary)”

Marg: “Oh you write for the paper? Do you have any kids? A man in your life? So you have nothing hey?”

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Marg sure was testing the waters there.

Me: “Nope, I’m a free bird”, I replied with a straight face.

Marg: “Hahaha, free bird hey? Good for you. I’m gonna go smoke a cigarette. Anyone who feels like joining me, I’ll be in the barn.”

I don’t know what it was that got me all worked up but I felt a tantrum coming up and I was aiming for the snack bowl.

I have nothing? That’s not true. I have a lot. It’s just not a house. Or a husband. A pension fund. A hospitalization insurance or a presently well defined job for that matter.

Next time when I meet people and they ask me what I do, imma be straight up and say:

“I’m a 28 year old kid in the middle of an existential crisis walking around with monopoly money bluffing her way through town hoping she will make it at the end of the ride. I’m freaking Peter Pan and all I want for Christmas is for Tinkerbell to light my path and to hang out with the Lost Boys.”

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Bangarang there’s room for at least one girl!

Marg: “So is this free life working for you?”

Me: “Sure…” (liar, liar pants on fire!!)

Marg: “Do you want a husband and kids?”

Me: “I don’t know… Maybe one day.” (stupid Grinch, give me my Christmas back!)

Marg: “How old are you if you don’t mind me asking?”

Me: “28” (Going on 92) 

Marg: “Oh, you’re a baby! The best is yet to come.”

Me: “Yeah right. Not to be rude or anything Mrs. Grinch -err- Margaret, but I feel the best has already been had. I’ve had the settled life, the career life, I was a question at the annual quiz of my birth town in 2015, … Honestly I feel I had all the cards dealt to me once and I royal flushed them all down the toilet. It’s all downhill from here.”

Celine: “Stop it! If you think that, then that’s what you’re gonna get!”

Marg: “Just ask yourself a basic question: what do you want?”

Me: “In life?”

Marg: “Yeah, in life, what else?”

Me: “… I don’t know. I don’t know what I want… Do I even have to have a destination in mind? If you live in the now isn’t that the worst thing you could do?”

Celine: “Well you have to let the universe know what you want in order to get it.”

Me:

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(Getting my chinese rude on)

“Is the universe really concerned about me getting what I want? Why would it give a rat’s ass? Do you really think the universe wants us to have a nice Christmas Eve together? Earn a lot of money? Build a lot of houses? Do you really think the universe cares?”

Marg: “Were you traumatized as a kid or something?”

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Me: “No, I just question my entire existence a lot. It doesn’t make sense to me why we’re here. It doesn’t make sense to me that we are born into this world that destroys oneself with war and terrorism, it doesn’t make sense to me that we are born into this system that expects us to clean up other people’s shit all day just so we can have a comfortable old age. It doesn’t.”

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Marg: “Your life is just beginning. Believe me. Take it from someone who has lived a long one: live in the now. Enjoy your life now. Before you know it you’ll be walking in the mall looking at your reflection in the mirror wondering who that old woman is. Life has its ups and downs. You will have bad breaks and disappointments, but don’t give up on life. Live it. There are wonderful things coming. Things you will want to work and live hard for. So live.”

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Bangarang! When did Mrs. Grinch turn into Wendy Darling?

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The Grinch was right. Or maybe it was the bottle of rye inside her blood that was right. I definitely want to live and work hard for the things I love. Traveling the world to discover all there is to know about life. Picking up stones and discovering what lies under them. Looking into mirrors and understanding everything there is to be seen in them. And one day I would love to love again. Deeply. Profoundly.

My wandering thoughts were interrupted with a deep grunt of discontent =>

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Marg: “Well it’s already past my bedtime. Son in law! Haul the truck we’re leaving.”

As she was waggling towards the cloakroom to get her coat, I ran in behind her.

Me: “Marg, wait!”

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“…Do you have like an email address or something?”

Marg: “Me…? What, you want to send me an email?”

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Me: “Well I would very much like for us to stay in touch. I didn’t think it straight from the beginning but… I think you kinda rock.”

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Marg: “Well *cough* I, ahm, I ….”

I think I had just made the Grinch blush.

… Before she turned into her old sassy self again.

Marg: “Well I can’t email on Tuesdays….

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… But I would love to stay in touch.”

She scribbled her email address on a napkin and handed it over to me with eyes as soft as velvet.

Marg: “You are a truly gorgeous girl and you will have your ball. Just never give up on that.”

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(Enter narrator’s voice:)

It was the night the Grinch stole Christmas.

And returned it the same day. 

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*Merry (belated) Christmas to every single one of you*

XO

Read all about me arriving in Toronto, visiting Niagara Falls and smoking the christmas tree next time on the blog. Gobble gobble!

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Making headlines

You guys! Something wonderful has happened! Something that will change the future of Backpackersguidefortheblondeandtheclueless forever. Your favorite blog is breaking borders, is conquering ground, is changing the rules, is mixing guacamole with syrup, is …

You: “Yeah, yeah we get it. Something big has happened. Spill the beans already.”

Me: “You are not going to believe this: The one and only DAILY PLANET has reached out to me to do an interview on me and the blog!”

→ Millions of readers getting to know BGftBC? – Hell yeah!

→ Getting interviewed by Clark Kent?? – Fuck yeah!

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I didn’t hesitate one billionth of a second when they asked me!

… Unfortunately Kent couldn’t do the interview… The article is part of The Daily Planet’s Fashion Issue so I got to sit down with Lois Lane instead.

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We had a little chat and a photo shoot at Korsakov. I’m super happy with the result. Although I would have liked some more pictures to make the article breathe, … And some creative questioning wouldn’t have hurt, but that Lois Lane is a tough cookie to negotiate with. Anyway. Here’s the result, hope you like it!

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You: “Hum. Exoticism?”

Me: “Shut up and continue reading.”

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You: “Aww Evvy, aren’t you the sweetest Cheerleader Goth.”

Me:  annoyedemoji

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** The End **

Me: “So… What do you think??”

You: “Honestly?”

Me: “Yes.”

You: “I think you should go back to interviewing people other than yourself. Now THAT would be a great look for you!”

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To be continued.