Belge side story

Man, I am on a total rage high today. Rage hormones coursing through my veins, eyes popping, teeth grinding. It's sort of fun! I haven't been this cross for ages. The reasons are eurotedious. But the righteous indignation is giving me SUCH a buzz.

I can think of a couple of ways out of this:

(a) Cry

(b) Flounce

(c) Sulk

(d) Buy shoes (saw some nice violet Ferragamo heels on my way to work)

(e) Deal with the source of my displeasure like a grown up in an assertive but non-confrontational way.

Ha! Just kidding with the last option, obviously.

Instead I will think pleasing, calming thoughts about everything I love about Belgium. Art nouveau houses, dingy bars, day to day surrealism, extreme bluntness, Pierre Marcolini, trams, people watching on the Sablon (and pondering the ubiquitous tweed-tastic gentleman farmer chic) strange words (craboujaja, miche-popotte, carabistouille, pets de nonne, drache), the flea market at the Place du Jeu de Balle, alligator building workshops, Fabrice Collignon, spontaneous, lengthy personal conversations with total strangers, ice cream as a food group in its own right...

Also, here's my Belgian silver bullet for bad eurodays.

Belge Side Story

Check this out, feel any irritation melting, and understand why I love love love Belgium so much.

Postscript: bought the shoes too....