Despite the blog silence, I haven’t actually died. I just haven’t had internet at home for weeks now. (Thank you xs4all, you may be sure I will tell everyone I know about the quality of your services.)

There are things happening, of course. Not having internet means I have time to do other things — like music. I have finished the instrumentals for a new shadowfighter album, “Three” which will be released in March (I assume here I will have finished the vocals by then). A new website shall follow, well, when I have internet. Also regular blogging shall resume then. And regular MSN presence. Etc.

In other news, one of my rats, Sheep, is not doing very well. Both boys caught a nasty feet infection, but while Mole pretty much recovered (the vet says his feet will never look the same again, but he’s a fat, happy rat with lots of energy and that’s what matters), Sheep lost over 20% of his body weight, can barely walk despite heavy doses of painkillers and, in general, doesn’t look good. His fur now has balding patches and the fact that he now associates me with being force-fed antibiotics doesn’t help because as a result he hates me, doesn’t trust me a bit and bites me at every opportunity (and I can’t blame the poor thing after what I do to him — as smart as he is, I haven’t found a way yet to explain to him that the nasty syringe is for his own good). It breaks my heart to see him wobble on his swollen feet, and it breaks my heart double that I can’t really do anything more for him than I do already…

Almost got rid of the old apartment now. Started painting it and to my surprise that’s going quite well, although I have to say it isn’t the most enjoyable work I have ever done. (I mean, I am painting white over my lovely colours. A person that doesn’t like sunny yellow walls and prefers them to be white must vote right-wing. Yes, this was an insult.) I also managed to sell an old sofa for 1 euro, so I am now basking in money. Yay! Well I would be, if not for the fact I have about 600 euro to pay in bills. Well, 599 more sofas and I am done.

What else — the new Saint Etienne single is absolutely fucking fantastic. (The Saint Etienne mailing list traditionally hate it. Someone even said that the Etienne entered their Modern Talking phase, which is a major insult, plus, completely untrue. They have entered their Kylie-when-she-gets-things-right phase.) It’s one of those songs for which the phrase “unashamedly pop” was invented, it’s sexy, slick, dancey, youthful and it makes me do that walk (you know which one) and pretend that I am a blonde teenage girl called Sarah, wooing boys at a disco. Marvellous.

It only takes a moment to rewrite every single page
you never know
when you feel your eyes lock and engage,
changing time forever (oh oh oh oh oh)
there’s no sense or reason why we’re shot
with the bolt of blue
and there’s no path for the heart to follow,
no one side that you have to choose

you know there’s more, there’s more than one love
you know there’s more, there’s more than one love
you know there’s more, there’s more, there’s more to love

I think I am being haunted by a ghost.

I spent the last two weeks looking for a measurement tape which should have been with all my toiletries. Since I am moving, I thought it’s probably — well — in some other box. Nevertheless, as I unpacked more and more boxes, it hasn’t been found. Then on Wednesday evening I looked into the toiletries closet again, slightly hopelessly, and guess what was there, not at all obscured by other things, but proudly displayed in the front? My measurement tape…

On Thursday at work I filled my ipod with music, then put it in the side pocket of my gym bag, closed the zipper, went to the gym, opened the zipper and didn’t find the ipod there. A bit baffled, I looked again, then again, then checked if it didn’t by any chance slide into the wallet (in the same pocket). Nope. I did a workout without my ipod (the music at the gym tends to be on the cheese-from-five-years-ago side but it’s sort of uptempo so I survived), then returned to work to discover the ipod on my desk. I would just assume that I forgot it if not for the fact I remembered very vividly putting it in the pocket and sliding the zipper back…

I went to Albert Heijn to buy a lightbulb for my fridge. I’ve located one, looked at it, then put it in my basket together with other things. I paid, packed my stuff, then left. At home I realised the lightbulb wasn’t in the bag. Bewildered, I checked my pockets. Nada. Gym bag? Nope. Pockets again? Nothing. I looked at the receipt to see how much money I lost on the lightbulb. It wasn’t on the receipt. It looks like it disappeared between the moment I picked it up from the shelf and the moment I arrived at the counter. How…?! It’s not like people were picking things from my basket on the way, nor can I imagine leaving it in the basket by accident…

I’ve been looking for The Smiths’ debut album for the last few months. My CDs, largely alphabetically arranged, didn’t seem to contain it. Puzzled, I wondered if I really had it — it wasn’t in my itunes library either, and I couldn’t really imagine NOT having ripped a Smiths’ album. Then last night I looked at one of the CD shelves (my CDs now a complete mess after the move) and guess what I found on top, proudly displaying the front artwork for the world to see…?

I think the ghost must be having charitable intentions — well, not with the ipod or the lightbulb perhaps, but it is, in fact, very handy to have The Smiths and the measurement tape again. Dear ghost, can you please let me know where the following things are located:

1. Dusty Springfield’s “Reputation” CD — I have the cover but not the CD;
2. Kylie’s “Videos 88-98″ DVD — same situation, I have the box but not the disc itself;
3. Garbage’s “Version 2.0″ box — I have the disc but not the box;
4. five million euros (well I’ve never had five million euros but wouldn’t mind finding such a thing accidentally).

I think that’s it for starters. Thank you in advance!

*

I wrote this post at home, put it on a USB stick (still no internet — if you ever think of getting internet through xs4all, bang your head repeatedly against the wall until you stop having stupid ideas), then placed the stick in my gym bag. I thought about whether to put it in the side pocket or the main compartment and decided on the main compartment, because I was afraid that the cold weather could somehow affect it if it’s in the side pocket. So I did. I arrived at work, opened the bag and the stick wasn’t there.

That ghost does not want to be outed, I realised. But I had to go home anyway to pick up a CD (I want to use identical paper for one of work projects). So I went home and looked for the USB stick. It wasn’t there.

“You stupid ghost” I thought angrily. “I’ll find it anyway. I know for sure it has to be either in the bag or somewhere at the apartment. I’m ready to dig through all the things I own to find that stick, just to prove a point. You won’t escape the inquiring public.”

Then I returned to work, opened the gym bag, stuck a hand in and immediately found the USB stick there, without even looking…

It is not a good idea to start a new blog when you have absolutely no time to write it, and that’s just what I did because I am a contrary bastard and I never do what I should. To make things a bit more difficult, I have no internet access until Wednesday, and I feel as if a body part has been taken away. My name is Ray and I am addicted to the internet.

There are books waiting to be read, CDs waiting to be played, blog entries waiting to be r– oh hang on, no, I went to my old place (which still has internet), loaded all the unread blog entries into a single Google Reader page, then came back home and read them. Oh yes. All 67 of them. So I am more or less au courant with everyone, folks, just hopelessly delayed with commenting because it’s much less fun to comment without being able to post immediately.

The best moment of my life might have happened this weekend; was it when I gave the Unicorn a unicorn and saw the sparks of laughter in his eyes? or was it when I found out my blog tagline has inspired Vanessa Daou’s blog post? or was it when I spent my first night ever at my own apartment and dreamt I was dancing to Michael Jackson and Britney Spears songs (don’t judge) much better than I was ever able to in reality, feeling so happy and so excited and so young? or is it now, that I am on my own here for the first time, having taken Scipio to the train station, and while he is spending his 16 hours on the train, I am spending my 16 hours with slight fever, aching throat and my legs feel as if I have done the harshest workout of my life yesterday? I have no idea, but this weekend was one I will never forget, and the year is only four days old.

I have to admit that my apartment isn’t entirely my own creation, as I had friends and relatives help me with painting, laying tiles, repairing walls, lending me money and things, helping me with the transportation… By Moz, I have the bestest friends in the entire universe, and my brother is a fucking star (which is doubly amazing considering we used to hate each other guts for most of our lives). Those people just amaze me by their kindness and sweetness and willingness to help without expecting much in return. I am going to spend 2009 learning from them.

Life is such a beautiful, beautiful thing. There is so much to experience and to learn; you can either live with a negative attitude, like a certain person I know who finds a new possibility to wallow in self-pity in every little thing that happens, or just enjoy things. Yes, I realise that I have gone from having nice savings into being neck-deep in debt. I’ll pay it off. I can live without CDs, clothes and books for another few months, especially as I have too many clothes to fit them in my wardrobe, too many CDs to fit them into the CD shelves and too many books to actually find time to read them (at least 10 are awaiting their turn). The one thing I couldn’t possibly live without is the people around me, and I have been blessed with a great bunch.

It is a time of summaries still… it will be over tomorrow assuming my cold (or whatever it is) is light enough to allow me to go to work. Some sad memories come back to me; happy ones, especially from 2008, outnumber them so much it’s just amazing. And I am learning — still — not to hold on to the sad ones; letting them go isn’t easy, but it is such a relieving process…

There are strange noises in my apartment; Charlotte Gainsbourg croons quietly from the hi-fi, while the floor, heating and (I assume) other bits croak, click or plonk every now and then. I haven’t learned to listen to the new sounds yet; I don’t yet know which ones are dangerous and which can be ignored. Is that person making noise outside a neighbour parking his bike, or a thief stealing… whatever they are stealing? Is the strange clicky sound coming from my bathroom a good thing? (It is not water dripping, I checked.) There is an empty house and there is me, and there are the hours I am going to spend learning this year; 2009 will be the year of learning — to accept, to love, to ignore, to separate, to know myself better, to know other people better. To say yes. To say no. Always the thoughts; always the space; always the silence; always the love; always — the hours.