It's the end of the year, and I just threw out two years worth of old workbooks and now-useless notes, said GOODBYE to Spanish and... found my list of this year's Hyamsisms.

There's less of them this year, because there were generally less classes. Hopefully next year I'll still have him as a teacher.

( Hyamsisms, year two )

Had my internship going-away meeting, which was really just a 'so, did you like, fill out all the forms?' meeting. I cheerfully informed the teacher that no, I did not have a room yet because I'm not about to share ten square metres of living space with two other people if I could help it.

At the end of the meeting I was asked if I could bring a present with me for the internship mentor (who shares a first name with my dad and a last name with one of the Beatles, which I find kind of hilarious), who was such a help for the student before me at Amnesty, who had a breakdown. "Sure!" I said. Then they asked me if I wanted to come along and buy the present. What the hell, I thought.

It's a very strange experience, discussing types of mustard at a delicassy shop with two teachers, one of whom you have never met before. At least I managed to talk them out of getting a bottle of wine, because there's no way I'd be able to get that through customs.

So now I have three jars of mustard, jam and... something pickled to fit into a small suitcase, along with the five-months-of-stuff. The fact that I'm not allowed to bring more than 15 kilo is what makes it really exciting.

So, in short: Hurray, I'm done with schoolwork but WTF MUSTARD?

So, I passed my SDL Trados Level One certification, which basically means I know how to fuck about with translation software and can remember what colour means what. To prove you actually passed the test, you needed to send an e-mail via the school-webmail with the little picture you get that you're certified in your signature.

To: Kickass IT teacher
From: Inny

Dear Ms Kickass teacher,

Hooray, I passed SDLX. Now I get to flaunt a ridiculously large picture in my signature.

Best regards,

Inny.
[insert ridiculously large picture]

To: Inny
From: Kickass IT teacher

Hip hip hooray! My picture is bigger than yours, haha!

Best regards,

Kickass IT Teacher
[insert even more ridiculously large picture]


Now there's just my internship going-away meeting to get through tomorrow, and then I'm FREE. Kind of. There's still an end-of-year barbeque I'm planning with friends and... I still need to arrange a lot of shit before I can actually, you know, move to Dublin. But at least I won't have to go to school anymore.

\o/

I passed Spanish. I passed Economics. I passed Dutch. ... I have to revise one onsight-translation for English and then I've passed that as well.

In short: I am awesome. And I am going to get myself a bowl of icecream.

Dear Inny,

Stop freaking out about stuff you signed up for. Yes, you knew it would be a hard internship, seeing as how the last intern had a nervous breakdown. Take solace in the fact you're better than the other girl who wanted this internship. And that you are getting a whole six euros for lunch-money a day!

Also, stop spazzing out over your exam and the fact that nothing about the course made sense. Just make some more notes and remember to think logically on the exam. You're not as stupid as you think you are and when in doubt, maybe the answer really is 'D. Not enough information to calculate the answer to this question'.

If you're good, you'll get pasta for dinner. Or possibly sweet-and-sour rice, I can't tell what sauce is in the box from the freezer.

Best regards,

Your More Logical Side

Well, the last 24 hours have been a bit... strange. I mean, the marching band in front of the house was fun at around 8, but it was less fun when the landlady let them in and they played on and off until 11 in the back yard while I was trying to study for my Spanish exam.

Then I went to bed and dreamed of my brother getting married (which was a disaster, much like it would be in real life) and when I woke up, the first message I got on msn was 'MJ IS DEAD'. It took me a while to realise that my classmate meant the Prince Of Pop and not some girl in our class.

While I was doing some last-minute studying for the exam someone came by to look at my room and the landlady was shocked to see I was awake and dressed before ten on a Friday.

And after all that, I had my exam, which sucked. Ten minutes before the official end-time, some loud boys came into the class going: "Sure we can sit here! It's not an exam!" Our Scary Spanish Teacher chased them out saying 'didn't you see the sign on the door?'. Apparently, the correct teenage-douchebag response to this is not 'sorry', but it's stealing the sign and running away with it. What the hell.

So yeah. Strange day. But now I get the rest of the day off, so I can finally read my fanfics and books and check my favourite websites.

Things that are annoying Inny:

-A teacher who schedules a class for 9.30, then shows up 15 minutes late to tell us 'no, I meant class is at one' and does not see why this would annoy us, because we have plenty to do and we can work in the library. Never mind that I didn't bring any books to do what I have to, because I was going home after class to work.

-Suprise deadlines.

- Scary Dublin Lady. The one who left a message for me that she had a room available. I sent her a painfully polite, spell-checked letter inquiring about the details of the room. What I got back was a badly written, standard e-mail with ANGRY THREATS about 'time wasters and wanna be tennants' every other sentence. Also, demands that I should give her one month's rent and a 500 euro security deposit, or else the room could not be reserved for me. The whole thing lacked proper grammar, spelling and even capital letters.

I sent another Very Polite mail back, asking about the size of the room, what furniture was in it, if she had a contract I could look in and sign before I gave her the money.

The mail back did not really answer any of my questions and stressed that I had to send her the 800 euros before she could send me a contract. Also, her phone has not been active 'since she has been here'. Her last e-mail said she had grown up in Dublin, so either her phone has not been working all her life, or there is something a bit off, there. But we could totally talk on msn.

... you know what, Scary Lady? Never mind.

Well, this day started out well. I had an awesome dream where the Marauders were actually space-cadets and they brought back a shape-shifting alien who gets influenced by the people around him to build it's own personality and face. It started out looking as a red balloon-animal. Then, it became apparent that these kinds of aliens are sent to the Black Family every generation, because this one had been in contact with Bellatrix (and therefor was very grumpy and pissed off, until it got to spend time with James, Sirius and Remus.)

When it finally got a body and absorbed enough knowlege to talk, it told the boys its name was Orion and it escaped because it didn't want to turn into the likes of Bellatrix and Sirius' mum. The boys decided if it sticked close to Sirius and James, they could pass Orion off as a cousin and he could enroll in the Academy. Remus tried to stay out of the way, but when he wanted to leave, Orion whined that he didn't have to and tried to get him to stay. ... even my dreams have slashy subtext.


Then, after I woke up and checked my mail, I found a new message waiting for me at one of the 'find a place in Dublin' sites I'm subscribed to. The person who contacted me had an ad for a room that seems pretty much perfect, so I e-mailed her back and I'm keeping my fingers crossed.

Things Inny learned at a concert:

-It's good to know the people who helped build the set, because it means you get VIP places.
-Free cake is always better than bought cake.
-Nymphadora Tonks lives, and is preforming with the Royal Dutch Air Force Orchestra.
-While the saxophone sounds very sexy, it is impossible to look sexy while playing it.


I also opened my birthday presents from chill_morte and from kamapon and panda_enorme. I am very spoiled with art and food (hmm, turron) and weird looking cosmetic products (sugar! To srub your skin with! Not to eat!). I feel very special.

Start of birthday: not as good as yesterday. Instead of sexy Peter Petrelli, I had a dream where I took the wrong bus in Maastricht, had to steal a bike with no paddles to get home and when I came home, someone had broken in and trashed my room, stolen and replaced furniture and written on everything with red pens, including in my journal.

And then my sweet, Belgian landlady turned into Angela Petrelli and told me to stop whining about it.


But still... Hello everyone. I'm twenty. This means I'll have to start referring to myself as a woman and make responsible decisions. Also, I can't blame my moody-brooding on being a teenager anymore.

But I had cake yesterday, so it's all good.